Saturday, August 9, 2008

Saturday Morning

It’s Saturday morning. Nicole is still tired from waking up three times last night to cater to the eating habits of our 8 week old Jackson. I was sleepy when I woke up, but nothing compares to Nicole. I have never met a person outside of their teen years that requires as much sleep as my wife. Don’t get me wrong. She is totally a “tough guy,” and when the situations call, she can survive on mere winks of shut eye. Nevertheless, today is a quiet, cool Saturday morn, so after she let me sleep from 7:30am to 9am, I took responsibility of my little screaming monster.

Jackson was cranky as usual, and I simply wasn’t interested in bouncing and walking him all over the house. I decided to make this morning very special considering we had some Daddy/Son time, and today is another special day: Jackson’s official 8 week mark. For this special day, we would take our first Daddy/Baby shower. Nicole took the pictures to memorialize this special landmark before slipping into a drool filled coma. As you can see, right before the first flash went off, Jackson let us both know what he thought of our plans.

The shower was fun and Jackson adorable. I don’t know if he left the shower much cleaner than when he entered, as this was quite a precarious endeavor. On the way into the shower I tripped over his shampoo bottle, and from that point, I held a vice-like grip on the slippery little eel. All in all, it was a great experience. Jackson loves the water. He already knows how to hold his breath when the shower water splashes on this head and face. This both amazes me, and gives me a silly sense of fatherly pride.

I love being around for these moments, and get a kick out of the little things, like how he cries as soon as we get out of the shower because fun water time is over, or after the shower when in the middle of attaching the new diaper he throws an ass-ball, as though the diaper is a catchers mitt and I’m Johnny Bench.

As I write this, the little man sleeps, strapped to my chest like a roast beef in a book bag. I just hope he doesn’t puke again on his cute little Saturday morning outfit...I’m sure he will.

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