Watch Your Wake - Day 47
My son of Grace,
Everyone tells you that life changes when you have a baby. “Things will never be the same!” Young brotha, that is the understatement of a lifetime!! There was perpetual warnings coming in like waves on a beach, nonstop like the Rolex with which Drake is so infatuated. It was as if the people in our lives formed a super long line, and each person in one way or another told us that big changes were coming. But not one of these people were able to fully articulate how deep that rabbit hole goes. You can’t truly know until you know. Those aforementioned changes are coming in hot and steady.
I can say we, Mommy and I, are handling most these changes like true professionals. We’ve become more flexible, yet incredibly precise. We’re meticulous, but also adaptable. We are different animals, but the same beasts. However, you have caused (and are causing) soooo many changes. At times, it becomes difficult for us to stay on top of them all. Imagine you’re a boat. All boats produce a wake as they cut through the water. You’re new to this world, you’re highly dependent upon bigger people, and honestly there is not a lot to you yet. Your wake should be that of a large rowboat right now, if not a lil yacht(y). You definitely weren’t expected to come through like the Knock Nevis (Google it). You’re as healthy as a fiddle, praise God. You have love and affection at your beck and call, you don’t have to work, and you have 6 different bed/bed-like pieces of furniture on which you can rest like a king. So why such big waves?
Knock Nevis was as long as the Eiffel Tower is tall. May she rest in peace (because she has been decommissioned).
Your mother and I had a real good thing going. That’s not to say you messed that up because that good thing is definitely still rolling; can’t stop, won’t stop!! But your every action has a wake. There are a lot of good times. We are starting to see you smile regularly and you make non-crying noises that we get a real kick out of. Then, there are times when you’re a hell-raiser who the rules say we are not allowed to even be angry with, let alone display said anger. There is so much unprocessed emotion in our house right now. Since you moved in, you have been the only person who has screamed and yelled. You wave your rage flag with reckless abandon. However, that anger does not start and end with you. You throw it around when you’re done with it and it sticks to other things, namely Mommy and I.
Again, we’re not allowed to be angry with you. It’s in the rule book. So your wake just sits with us like a third person on a love seat. It grows, taking up more and more space until there is no space left. When that happens, that energy has to be released. However, you’re an infant who requires a fair share of time and attention. We don’t have time to take a boxing class or go to the gun range to channel the extra emotions being put out, so occasionally we end up taking it out on each other. Because it does not originate with one of us, we never know the anger has come to a head until the bomb has already gone off. Well Grayson, your residual rage caused an explosion tonight. That wake you leave has left your parents drenched head-to-toe and looking at one another for a towel.
It was your bath time. You and I were sitting on the couch together, while your mom ran your bathwater upstairs. You had just finished waving that rage flag at me for 30 nonstop minutes. Mommy and I had both had long days of adulting. Your mother has a history of using scalding hot water for her showers, so I am a bit nervous about the temperature of your bathwater. As a precaution, I express my concern. “Remember Brittany, he’s a baby. We don’t want to burn his skin off like you do in the shower.” In hindsight, my message and delivery were less than amicable, but you had smacked me with the anger stick already. I was ready for war, and there was no plan to be the bigger person tonight.
Mommy had recently acquired a rubber duck that indicates when your bathwater is too hot. I proceeded to ask if she had used the duck to test the water temperature. “My hand works just fine. Bring him up to me, stupid.” She didn’t actually call me stupid, but her words stung as if she had. “For my peace of mind, will you please use the duck?” I attempt to match your mother’s passive aggression. She disappeared from sight for a few moments before coming back with wet rubber duck in hand. “How do I tell if the water is too hot?”, she asks. I smirk while explaining; I think I’ve won. She disappears again before coming back and saying that she is not going to use the duck because it is not working. I’m on my high horse at this point. “You bought the duck, use the duck.” Not to be outdone, she replies, “I know what I’m doing Marc, you don’t have any idea what babies need.” As a first time dad doing his best to learn on the job, that one stung.
The pettiness continued for a bit longer before your mother came downstairs to air her list of grievances in a more direct setting. Considering those grievances now with a cooler and leveler head, they are all fair points. After sitting in our respective corners for a few minutes, we reconvene and discuss the situation as adults. That is one of the most beautiful aspects our relationship, our ability to reconcile with one another. We both apologize and acknowledge that the changes you are bringing can be a bit stressful. We also know that we have each other forever; you on the other hand will leave us to do your own thing one day. I tell you this to let you know you cannot and will not break us. You’re not a few days old anymore, so you need to stop acting like a baby. Grow up and get a hold of your emotions. We both expect an apologize from you when you’re older. For now, we'll take a Friday night to ourselves. You're off the Lala’s kid.
I leave you with this. Be mindful of what you're putting out and always watch your wake.
With love,
Dad
