Babies Are Fun

Whenever people ask me how we're adjusting to parenthood, I usually say that it's absolutely wonderful. But when I go into details, I usually talk about all the painful side-effects of being new parents. Lack of sleep (especially for my wife, who would be awakened by the butterfly beating its wings in the Amazon), dwindling social life, collicky crying and those perfectly-timed puking spats. But I insist it's fun. Really.

And it is fun. I knew I would love my little girl. And I have, ever since those big, curious eyes stared at me in the early hours of 2010. This love, in turn, has translated very easily into fun. She's like an enormous bouquet of exotic flowers where every day, new buds bloom into unexpected and exciting shapes and colors. She is learning all of those human functions we take for granted. The ability to move our hands to our mouth without poking our eyes or smacking the cushion behind our head is one example. Elementary, for those of us with a good 29.5 years of solid arm coordination, but it is fun to watch her grow, and every success is a slobbery celebration.

She's also becoming quite conversant. Whenever she wakes up from a nap, she is usually in a good mood and wants to look up at you and talk. It's a series of coos, gurgles and grunts with terrible syntax, but she responds to our questions, smiles, and makes eye contact - eye contact the envy of job applicants everywhere. There is pleasure in conversing with an inarticulate 2-month old with impressive social skills.

There is also pleasure anytime you are a teacher to a willing student. At this moment, our baby girl is very willing. She is excited about life, and I am excited to teach her about it. For example, did you know that I am an expert on dance moves from the late fifties and the early sixties? On yes. The twist, the bop, the swim, the funky chicken - I can do them all (it's the booty dancing so popular during my high school years I have so much trouble with). And with a little help from me, our baby can do them as well. Plus, I am teaching her about all the animals in her book. Tigers are beautiful. Gators taste like chicken.

Even changing her diaper is fun. I mean it. This was one aspect of parenting I was not looking forward to at all. And I know it is not fun for everyone. I heard of a baby boy who hated having his diaper changed. At the sight of a changing table he would scream like the Nazis at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, only without the face melting off. Our baby, on the other hand, loves it. When she is on her changing pad, her face floods with happiness, as if, now removed from her own filth, the world is again full of possibilities. (I reserve the right to no longer like changing the diaper once she is on solid foods)

Now, for anyone reading without kids, if you're still reading at all at this point, you're probably thinking, "boooorrringgg." Why give up my every-night social life, my plans to backpack the outback, spoken word night at hipster coffee houses (okay, I dream of bring my baby in her carrier to something like this, but if she's not quiet at church, she won't be quiet there either) and my ambitions to save the world with the right formula of writing, politics, travel, charity and church (at least that's what I was trying to do) for this? Well, it's like playing Settlers of Catan - it's not as much fun watching it, or having it described to you. It's something you need to experience. Trust me. I'm a parent.