Closing up shop on 2008

I have seen the sun set on my first 'year' of fatherhood. Technically it was only ten months and some change, but I'm calling it even. Much like other daily activities in life, the year is a blend of memories that seemed to go by eye-blinkingly quick while at other times painfully slow.

Like tonight and the previous two while my wife has been away in Scottsdale, presumably on a work trip, but when I call she is either on the golf course, headed off to drinks and dinner, or watching the Longhorns live and in-person at the Fiesta Bowl. Presently, my little pumpkin is upstairs snuggled cozily in her crib, while I take a few minutes from picking up the remnants of her afternoon she has so lovingly left behind as reminders. So I've cleaned the bottles and the nipples (a word I find less giggle-worthy the more of these I clean), done a load of baby clothes laundry, and dumped several handful piles of baby toys into the basket in the living room.

In the moment, days like this seem to go on forever. Especially when she hasn't napped well in the afternoon at school and the Megan I pick up is the grouchy version that refuses to answer to reason and cries unless you pick her up, but then squirms to get out of your grasp as soon as you do. She forces me to adapt, work on my deep breathing, and love her for all of her, not just the 'big smile' Megan, although to be fair, that is her disposition most of the time.

But then amidst the annual life stock-taking we all do at this time of year, I think back over the course of the year and the ten months with Megan in my life has seem to flown by. From her surprise entry, through Jillian's 12 weeks of maternity leave, followed up by 10 weeks of my own this summer, those days of her sleeping in the swing in our living room or propping her up in the boppy pillow feel like it occurred in a different life.

I look at her now and feel like I still have no idea what I'm doing. In 2008 it was having no clue on how to hold her, change her, or even bathe her. Now, looking forward, I've mastered all those things and now I have no clue on what solid foods I can feed her, how big those solid food portions can be so she doesn't choke, wondering if I should have started sign language with her earlier, wondering HOW I start sign language with her now, still feeling slightly helpless when she cries because it seems to be about something other than changing, eating, or sleeping.

Perhaps it's just my fatherly perspective, but I swear she has an 'I'm bored now' cry, an 'I know you want to watch sports on TV at this exact moment' cry, and a 'You already don't get me, so imagine what I'll be like at 16' cackle. Plus this is on top of the dozens upon dozens of 'mommas' I hear everyday. Great, thanks for making me have to deal with the inadequacy of knowing my wife is a far better nurturer and care giver than I am. Something, I, and Megan, are both extremely grateful for though.

But the above makes it sound like I've been in an internment camp. The time spent with Megan I have absolutely cherished. Her first smiles and laughs made me forget about anything else in the world. The joy of seeing her grow over 17 pounds since birth has been a miraculous relief. The ability to introduce her to my grandparents in California was gratifying. And just celebrating minor growth milestones like eating puffs, holding her own bottle, and holding herself up has been amazing to witness.

I am so blessed to have Megan in my life. My 2008 has been a whirlwind of emotion and fatigue, and I hesitate to think 2009 will be any different.