Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The week I went back to work

Always wondered about those obsessed idiots with pictures of their kids on their desks....

...I've got a huge colour pic of her right next to my work computer, staring straight at the camera, looking slightly argumentative, with her little fists clenched.

I have another Bear pic as my screensaver.

I have a small album of JPEGs of her and her mum which I look at several times a day. Often my heart locks up and I want to cry.

Work's going ok, but I hate it, being away from her. The first day it was almost pathological, and it hasn't improved much since.

She changes by the day. After a week of looking a teensy bit more like me, she's got beloved-features blossoming again. Perhaps beloved's facial expressions are dominant because I'm no longer around so much.

I hate that thought, resent every hour away.

Beloved is doing magnificently, having some hard times. I've stated the stupifyingly obvious on this blog before, but i'll do it again- it's not easy raising an infant on your own. With 2 cats, admittedly pretty well behaved, to watch as well.

When I get home and I hold my Bear she becomes quite still and looks me straight in the eye. Until I went back to work, at the start of this week, she never looked at me more than a few seconds at a time. Now it's like: "Oh, you, I remember you from this morning, let's eyeball you and see if your bona fides hold out, mista!" I can't move, of course. We've stared at each other for up to 10 minutes, the world passing by in the distance, irrelevant.

I think I've used the cliche-sounding term a few times now, but my chest really does tighten up. She clamps my arteries.

Poet Laureate stuff, hey?

10 comments:

paul said...

Oh boy. We haven't even had the 3rd Pea yet and I'm already dreading the day I have to go back to work.

I like the idea of the staring and letting the world go by business though - some comfort at least.

Tell me when it gets easier.

Anonymous said...

Babies are very time consuming. You have to do all the looking after parts, and then you have to stare at them for hours and sniff their dear little heads.

Legal Eagle said...

It does get easier, for you, your Beloved and the lovely Bear. Day by day, the little Bear is getting more at ease with the world.

Even now, at one year old, my baby's head smells delicious. And it's so soft - my friend calls her "little velvet head". And even now, I just look at her and melt. My parents say that feeling never goes away.

My husband still hurries home from work. However, as I said to him the other day, he should be pleased he's at work when there is a poo explosion. So there are some positives.

Anonymous said...

Oh Yeah. Welcome to the club. Once you become a parent there's no going back.
Enjoy the ride - it's wonderful, awe inspiring, joyful, exhausting etc etc etc. And if you're really lucky, you get to experience a lot of it all over again with the grandchildren.

JahTeh said...

If she clamps the arteries now wait until the first "Dadda".

Anonymous said...

Doing the belated blogrounds and thus a belated CONGRATULATIONS!

Little Bear sounds adorable, and yes: looking at her will always take your breath away.

The Daily Magnet said...

Yes, they are so cute when they're little aren't they?!

But Armaniac you can console yourself in the knowledge that in about twelve months time, you are going to be thanking (insert name of your higher power) that you can escape out that door, and that delicious feeling of escape and relief just gets better and better till they can take care of themselves from then on! ;}}

Ampersand Duck said...

I have a (Darwinian) theory that all babies look like their dads until the dads bond with them and then they start changing shape in whatever direction they (the babies) want. A safety measure, perhaps.

I've only just caught up with your story; I love the way you're writing about fatherhood.

Anonymous said...

what a lovely post.

Anonymous said...

This is a very beautiful post. I don't think anyone quite warns you enough that when you become a parent you will spend the rest of your life with your heart swelling bigger than you ever imagined while also breaking in two.