Well, V took to it like a duck to water. I, caught in the welter of post C-section pain, sleep deprivation, leaking breasts and too many aunts, hated him for it, but deep down, I was mostly envious. I'm not saying he assiduously changed every nappy and kept his temper against all odds and so on. He is after all not a saint. But he coped with a demanding 12-hr work schedule as well as a new baby and survived both, and I found that pretty impressive eventually. (Then I was too busy snarling to notice, sorry love.)
He left his job and began his freelancing when The Bhaeblet was a month old. That takes guts (and a lot of support from me, duh). And all through the rocky months that followed, when he had his bouts of depression, when things between him and me could have been better, he still coped with fatherhood better than you'd think. I keep saying 'cope' because what with his sleep issues and colic, The Bhaeblet was not an easy infant.
And now The Bhaeblet is nearly nine months old, and I see certain things:
- He listens to me better when V is around.
- He eats better, quieter and more when it is V who is feeding.
- He falls asleep easier when it's V who's on bedtime duty.
(Perhaps this post isn't entirely about him, all said. An encomium or two may have crept in, for me. But this is my blog, so who cares.)