A few days ago Ava officially turned six months old and I refused to believe it.
Two opposite thoughts enter my head when I try to process this information. The first is that it feels like she has been around forever. I have said on this blog before that even though she has been in our lives for a relatively short amount of time, it feels like forever. I don’t mean that in a bad way at all. What I mean is that it’s hard to remember what it was like before it was Ava 24/7.
What was it like to set your schedule depending only on what we had going on? The fact that on a Tuesday night we could head for the movies if we felt like it. Not having to factor in the baby prep time when we got ready to go anywhere. The phase, “Doing it on a whim” doesn’t exist in our vocabulary anymore. “Playing it by ear” means nothing to me. If our friends want us to go somewhere, we need at least a weeks notice. Two would be better. Keeping the house clean and in order has become harder than figuring out quantum physics.
Priorities have changed. Lives have been changed. All for the better by the way. Once again, this is not me complaining, my life is so much more fulfilled and all that jazz. It’s just that we are now the parents. We have no choice but to be responsible. This isn’t ‘Teen Mom’. It’s weird being on this side of the fence, being the one who has to make the right decisions. Life was so much easier when your stupidity only hurt yourself. If I f*#k up now, there is a ripple effect. Lives get impacted. The lights need to be on. The heat has to work. Food has to be on the table.
The other thought that went through my head was that I can’t believe that Ava is ALREADY six months old. She is growing WAY too fast.
At her six month check-up, Ava weighed in at seventeen pounds, two ounces. Her length is 28 inches. At birth she was eight pounds, three ounces and 21 inches long. She has more than doubled in weight and grew more than half a foot. I don’t like this, not at all. The bigger she gets the more I realize that she is only this small and precious once. At six months old she is already fitting into nine months clothes. She is already in size three diapers. I fear the day that she gets too big that I can’t swaddle her in my arms anymore.
After thinking about all of this, I realized being a father is exhausting. Not just the taking care of her part, but the real exhaustion is everything that goes through your head. The worry. The expectations. The wondering. The hoping. The worry again and then some more worrying. I love being a dad, it’s being the responsible parent that really kicks your ass.
Any two morons can get pregnant and fart out a kid. There are too many of those jerk-offs. It takes real parents to develop, nurture, love, raise and care for that child. Here’s to all you parents that handle your business.