Thoughts on Fatherhood 4

I really should not complain about my recent lack of sleep. People who know me well can tell you that I have been banking excess sleep for approximately 28 years. Parents of children who had colic or were constantly agitated from age zero through two have a lot more valid issues to lament. For the most part, my child has been wonderful and simply prefers sleeping during the day to the night.

However, a few nights ago my child went away and was replaced by an alien sent to planet earth to perform sleep deprivation exercises on new human parents. She was fed, clean, gas free, and screamed until her tiny little head turned the color of a turnip. I guess sometimes babies are uncomfortable for the sake of being uncomfortable but the intensity of her discomfort was simply unbearable for my wife and I. After repeated attempts to feed, burp, and clean failed I searched my sleep deprived shadow of a brain for sleepless baby remedies that family and friends had offered up upon hearing we were having a child.

The first fix I remembered involved placing the baby on the dryer. Apparently the warmth and rhythmic noise does wonders for angst ridden babies. I grabbed the little screamer off my wife’s chest, picked up her car seat on my way down the steps, and made a beeline for the dryer. My child was obviously confused because as I strapped her into the car seat she stopped crying for the first time in what seem like days. Emboldened by the unexpected success I placed her on top of the dryer and spun it on.

Unfortunately, the baby was roused by the laundry room while I was quickly drifting into dream land. After I picked myself up of the floor I realized this was not a sustainable plan. Even though she was happy, I figured she would cry uncontrollably if her slick seat bottom slid off the dryer while daddy was counting sheep.

As I lumbered back up the stairs the baby immediately started to scream. I began to think about the properties that made the laundry room a viable sleeping place for my child and searched for a safer, simpler, analog. I passed the throne room and realized I what I needed was kept in there! My fussing child made it difficult but I managed to nab the hair dryer before we entered the bedroom.

The simple act of powering on the blow dryer did nothing to sooth my raging child. I was disheartened but hopeful that I could somehow crack baby code. I decided that the blow dryer was outputting a consistent rather than rhythmic sound and soon came up with a winning method. I blocked the air output from the nozzle with my pillow case and then pulled it away at half second intervals. Instantly my little girl calmed down.

My big girl however, began complaining about the intense heat being produced from overclocking the hair product. When I noticed red glow inside the machine growing brighter with every wheeze I forced upon it, it became clear that the blow dryer was not my answer either. The second I stopped, the screaming picked up without missing a beat.

Now hours into the marathon I was becoming desperate. I was begging for answers that would not come and it was then that I came up with my most ridiculous plan. I ran to the living room closet and retrieved my vacuum cleaner. I knew from my last experience that I needed to add a beat to this mechanical monster and I did just that. Tapping the hose as it sucked in air brought the baby sleep inducing noise I needed. Peace coupled with a groaning vacuumous percussion filled the air.

As did heat and about three weeks worth of dust and other household unmentionables that a sucking machine picks up in the over the course of doing business. My nose began to run, my eyes began it itch, and my throat felt as if it was about to close. Strike three!

I lay in bed, defeated, ears ringing with the sound of crazy baby noises blended with crazy electric percussion. As I was about to give into a good cry myself my exasperated wife turned to me and said, “You could try her humidifier”. “We have a humidifier”, I responded, but before I got an answer I leap from bed and raced to our child’s room. After locating the box I tore at it like a bear with a freshly caught salmon.

My groggy brain could not comprehend the photo directions, but thankfully the mechanical skills I inherited from my handy father kicked into gear and after around 20 minutes I managed to decode how the three pieces of this plastic paragon placed together. I filled it with water imagined how quickly and efficiently it would lull my child to sleep. When I returned to the bedroom what I found simply dumbfounded me, my wife and child were soundly asleep.

I climbed in bed content with the knowledge that the two most important people in the world were finally resting. Approximately 43 seconds later my alarm went off and I got dressed for work. Ironically, while the alarm finally brought the water works to my face, my girls stayed peacefully sleeping.