Father Son Time

I have learned one thing (and only one thing) in the short time that I have been a father. And that thing is that your relationship is going to be built on a foundation of the time that you two spend together alone. Not the “father/son time” events glamorized and cheapened on TV. It isn’t the fishing together, or going to a Yankees game, or hiding a body together, it is the short little segments when you two are in one room, and mom is in the other.

Like last night, when I walked in the door and took Dex up to change his diaper. It was the first I was seeing him for the day. I got up into his room, laid him in his crib so I could put on my hazmat suit, and looked down upon him… and lovingly said “Dude… What the hell are you wearing? You look like Mr. Rogers gay brother… You are Chauncey Rogers, very flamboyant but also respectful in that you always change your shoes when you come into the house”… He may have not understood all of my words, but he understood the message.

 

We have a lot of such exchanges with me standing over his crib. One of the weirdest things that he does, and does on a regular basis, is look up on me with an expression that would make you swear he is about to say something like an adult. Like in “The Butterfly Effect” when Ashton Kutcher goes back in time to when he is a kid, but talks like an adult.

My brother always thinks that Archie the cat looks at him in this way. That he is watching, judging, and waiting to report back to me. I thought he was crazy, until I saw this look on Declan’s face. A few days ago I was going on about 35 minutes of trying to get his foot into his pant leg. I was concentrating so hard when his little hand reached down, and grabbed my forearm as someone would to say “calm down. Relax. Its going to be ok” Just the way he touch my arm shocked me and I looked at him, and he had the same look on his face. I swore he was going to say something. He looked like Jesus and Yoda were both about to speak to me through him. Kali walked by just in time to see me looking down, and asking “What is it… what do you have to tell me??? Ready to hear you, I am…”

But even though these good times are important, just as important are your actions when things are tougher.  When your patience is tested or when your hopes are high and you have a sense of security, just to have the carpet yanked from underneath you.

Last night for example. After about a half hour of playing “hop on pop”, then walking around, then rocking, he finally rested his head on my shoulder and fell asleep. It only took 30 minutes, but 30 minutes of a child crying is like 4 days of silence.  I thought to myself, as he gently snored on my neck… “You know… as frustrating as it was just minutes ago when he was wailing for no real reason, it isn’t that bad. And how can I possibly complain or be frustrated, Kali does this every night… plus… it was only a few minutes… and now, he is so calm… everything is just fi….”

Dex’s head shot up out of a dead sleep, he burped like Barney from the Simpsons, and projectile vomited down the front of my shirt. The inside of the front of my shirt. Kali heard my primal groan of anguish, and came into the room and said “want me to take him?”

“No” I replied through clenched teeth

She said “Oh, there is some spit-up on his blanket, let me get you a new one”

“There is puke in my belly button”

Horrified. Confused. Internally giggling I am sure. She said “ummm what”

“He puked… IN MY BELLY BUTTON”

As I set him on the floor in front on me on his pillow deal, I explained how he vomited directly on my throat, with such force and volume that it immediately traveled under my shirt, down my big belly, and puddled IN my belly button. All warm… and slippery…and milky smelling…

When I pulled my shirt off my head I looked down at him… he was grinning back up at me… Not because he had just set me up to give someone a vanilla shake body shot, but because now he wasn’t thinking about his stomach hurting, and he realized it was me… That or he had waited 4 hours and finally got me back to calling him Mr. Rogers gay brother, and it was worth the wait. Either way, it is impossible to be mad looking at his goofy slobbery toothless grin.

 

I hope the fact that I could see the humor in it and laugh it off, is something that he will learn (when I puke on him in the future).