Distracted Dad
Richard Hearn is feeling the jet lag in Baby Land
First, an apology if this column is disjointed. I thought I was sleeping badly prior to our New Baby’s arrival, but I’d really forgotten about this bewildering level of tiredness. I’m re-reading this now and falling asleep between paragraphs three and four (which regular readers might say normally happens to them).
Forgotten may not quite be the word but it’s one thing remembering tiredness in a detached way, and another to be immersed in it; there’s a jet-lag feel, continually crossing the time zone in and out of Baby Land. Similarities to plane travel don’t end there. You never quite finish watching any films and you get stuck in cramped positions for long stretches of time. Chicken or beef, anyone?
Another memory coming flooding back is how little a baby weighs, and how to hold them. The New Baby’s weight is all in the head. It’s like gently cupping your hands under a grapefruit, but then when you pick him up, there’s very little extra weight in the rest of his body – say a paperclip’s worth. All wrapped inside soft material, of course. In comparison, picking up The Boy (aged five) immediately after is such a shock. When he’s wearing his Stormtrooper pyjamas, it’s like I’m giving a fireman’s lift to an actual Stormtrooper; some jobbing actor who happened to be walking past Elstree Studios in 1976.
“There’s a jet lag feel, continually crossing the time zone in and out of Baby Land”
I’d also forgotten about changing that first nappy. It’s like a rather unpleasant game show. Against the clock, you’ve got to clean up a small animal while they dance horizontally on Marmite. Oh, and they’re screaming in your ear.The New Baby’s not just like one small animal, but several different ones. Holding him, he’s a mole, all shut-eyes and snuffling for food. In his cot, he’s a guinea pig, twitchy, nervous, with squeaks and burps and farts seemingly quite independent of himself, like sound effects that don’t quite match the visuals. His sleepy, drunk demeanour after a feed reminds me of a contented cat.
What I do remember is how to do up buttons on a sleep suit. Five years ago, I made the mistake of thinking if you start at the top and make your way down you’d be alright. Well, readers, you won’t. The buttons form an upside down Y, and you have to do a couple of buttons at the top and then think about each of the legs. I’ve just read that paragraph back and realise how idiotic, minor, and downright dull it sounds. But in the middle of the night, and if a quick change keeps the baby asleep an extra twenty minutes, then any parent will know, that knowledge is gold dust.
