My beautiful daughter loves me. Her smile when I walk into the house at night is beaming. Her giggles when she sees my face over the rails of her crib in the morning are spectacular. Clearly, she knows who I am and she is happy to see me.
So then why, oh why, does she hate me so much??
Two nights ago, she wanted to get up and chat (read "scream") at 3 am. I thought for a moment about doing what I've been doing since her birth; pretending to be asleep long enough to make sure that my amazing and caring wife sees to her needs, then falling back to sleep. After a brief consideration of this tactic, I sighed and got out of bed. Sara works VERY hard and does not sleep enough. I went into the other room, hoping that a soothing back rub might put my angel back to sleep. No such luck.
She was on her stomach, having wiggled into the corner and trying to force her head through the bars and into the wall beyond. When I went to move her back to the middle of the crib, she opened her eyes, looked me the face and cooed gently, as if to say "WHY THE HELL DID YOU TOUCH ME!! I PUT MYSELF THERE ON PURPOSE, YOU'RE A TERRIBLE DAD! YOU HATE ALL MY FRIENDS AND YOU THINK EVERYTHING I DO IS STUPID AND YOU NEVER LET ME GO OUT AND I HATE YOU SO MUCH I WANT TO DIE!!!!!"
Do you think I'm a little worried about her teen years?
Anyway, I walked around with her, bounced her lightly, laid her on my chest and I lay on the couch, walked around some more, talked to her, sang to her, danced with her, gave her hugs and kisses.
She fell back into a sound and deep sleep...just in time for me to be wide awake. At 3:30am... Did I mention I don't have to be at work until 11:30?
I didn't go back to bed because I didn't want to wake Sara, but then I changed my mind. I don't think I woke her as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling my legs groan in agony.
Why were they groaning? Didn't I say? No? Oh. Sorry.
I bought the Wii Fit two years ago and I loved it. Then I liked it. Then I got bored with it. The only part I really liked was the boxing, but that also got boring quickly. So last Thursday, I bought Gold's Gym Cardio Workout for the Wii. This game is nothing but rhythm boxing. It's like Dance Dance Revolution, except, instead of flopping your legs and feet all over the place like a spastic, "artist yet unappreciated" teenager in over-sized black clothes and make-up, you're flopping your arms and fists all over the place like a spastic, angry, overweight, socially outcast teenager in gym shorts.
Needless to say, I love it. It's a great way to get out my aggressive energy and get my heart rate up in a non-"furious at everyone around me for being incompetent" way, which I think is a step in the right direction. Also, Harper is entranced watching me punch the air as the magical white bricks in my hands make satisfying Kung-Fu sounds.
So I did boxing Thursday night, Friday morning and Saturday morning, throwing almost 2000 punches between those days. Sunday, I discovered I was a little sore from the workout on Saturday and decided I should take a day off to let my muscles rest. Monday too...
Tuesday, I progressed to the next level of workout, which included ducking as well as jabs, hooks, crosses, (There has to be a religious joke there somewhere...) and uppercuts.
I did not properly stretch.
I could not bend my legs yesterday. In typical Justin fashion, I spent the day worried that I might be having a stroke, or some slow progressing heart problem that was affecting the circulation to my legs. I had, of course, completely forgotten that I had worked out heavily without consulting a doctor before hand. This morning, I still hurt, but decided that I needed to work through it.
So my sore legs and my beautiful daughter, as well as the stress of the newest episode of Deadliest Catch, ensured that I got minimal amount of sleep on Tueday night. Last night, Harper slept through the night, but as is her wont, she woke up screaming as soon as Sara closed to the front door to go to work. Up again!
In spite of this lack of sleep, I would not trade this in for anything. On Sunday, she will be 5 months old. It blows my mind that she's been here for 5 months already and that she's only been here for 5 months. I remember what life was like without her, but not much.
Parenting is truly the greatest adventure.
Alright, enough rambling. This is what you came here for anyway, isn't it? PICTURES!!!