Unbelievable excitement ensues as two Seattleites prepare for a baby!

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Finally, A New Post


I'd love to blog more often, but I just can't tear myself away from Sophia. Look at that smile - can you blame me?

Those few people who still bother to check this site, yes, rub your eyes and do a double take, there is finally a new post. I will endeavor to give it the same level of trite and banal content that has characterized my previous posts on The Hafner Three.

Evidently - and this comes as a major surprise, since I haven't heard about it more often than three or four times per day - this blog hasn't been updated for some time. Frankly, I'm a little stung by the very idea that people could be tired of looking at the side of my Dad's head.

So why is this the first post in nearly two months? Well, the problem isn't that there hasn't been anything going on or nothing to say. The problem is that there has been an awful lot going on, not all of it has been particularly newsworthy, and we've been terrifically busy racing around to keep from falling any farther behind than normal.

Part of it is my new job and the frantic schedule I've been keeping there. The other part, well, I think I'll blame on my four-month-old daughter. That's good parenting, isn't it?

It's not exactly news that babies take constant attention. We knew that going in, but we hadn't imagined exactly what it means to be in that state for several months without the ability to take a real break.

What really sneaks up on you is how constant that attention needs to be. Now that Sophia is active and alert, a parent charged with caring for her is fortunate to have five or ten minutes in a four-hour stretch to be able to do anything else. And I'm not talking about breaking away to relax and decompress - you know, hang out with friends, play games, or read a good book. That 5-10 minutes had better be used to shower, eat, use the restroom, pay bills, or do laundry - or you'll be stinky and hungry all day long.

The weekdays are especially tough. By the time I get home from my 11-hour workday, I'm exhausted; but Leigh is completely wiped out after caring for Sophia all day by herself and running the household. When I get home, I take over primary baby duty while she gets things done around the house. The result is that when we both collapse around 1- p.m., both of us are thoroughly exhausted and lucky to have been able to keep up with life's demands, much less have time to do anything fun.

Things are slightly easier on the weekends, when one of us can assume Sophia duty while the other bustles around and accomplishes. And it's not as if spending time with her is especially tough duty, since she's amazingly good-tempered. Her throaty laugh is the most beautiful noise in the world, and we've both fallen in love with her impish little grin. She's quick to do both when you tickle or sing to her. She loves to hold and grip items, and does very well in groups of people where she can just watch and listen. But if you set her down, even in her vibrating, massaging, musical chair - something both of us wish was offered on an adult scale - she'll be crying and demanding attention five to 10 minutes later.

But just to illustrate how difficult it can be, even on a weekend, I began determinedly writing this blog post Saturday morning, kept hammering away at it through the day when I had a moment, and as I'm writing this it's 4 p.m. Sunday afternoon. I've been typing a few words and then breaking away to calm Sophia, give her a new toy, retrieve the toy, retrieve it again, retrieve it once again, put her in the swing, give her the pacifier, change her diaper, give her something to gum on ... it's just a never-ending process, and you have to be creative and keep coming up with new things to keep her interested and distracted. And this is with a remarkably well-behaved and happy baby.

The never-ending vigilance necessary reminds me the implacable robotic enemies of science fiction lore - the ever-adapting Borg in the Star Trek world, or the remorseless killer of Terminator fame.

To paraphrase Reese in the original Terminator, "You still don't get it, do you?! She can't be bargained or reasoned with! It doesn't matter to her what you're doing! She doesn't feel pity or remorse! She'll continue to eat, poop, and cry - that's what she does! That's all she does! You can't stop her! And she will not stop, not ever, until she is 18!"

So, you see, it's really Sophia's fault I haven't posted anything in two months. After all, it's not as if any of you have known me to be at all lazy when it comes to keeping in touch, right?


"You can't stop her!"

5 Comments:

Blogger mrclm said...

I really hope she doesn't stop eating, pooping, or sleeping when she turns 18...that's what you meant right?!? ;-)

Big Chris

10:10 PM

 
Anonymous Karen Evans said...

Shame on you, Chris, for blaming you lack of attention to the blog on my beautiful, spectacular, perfect-in-all-ways goddaughter!!

Anytime you want to put her on a plane to Charlotte, say the word!

11:54 AM

 
Blogger Senihele said...

LOL Reality can be a cuse and a blessing. If you think you have little sleep now, wait till she becomes a teenager. *grin*

Brenda

10:35 AM

 
Blogger Senihele said...

um curse not cuse
Sorry

10:36 AM

 
Blogger ChaviLicious said...

Nice photo

1:32 PM

 

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