I’ve got a 3 week-old newborn. During the day there are plenty of adorable moments and easy times. But it’s the middle of the fucking night, he strategically waited until I was switching diapers to piss on me and all over, then was flailing his arms and pushing the bottle out of his mouth even though he was very hungry, then shit his GODDAMN BRAINS OUT while eating, then after I burped him and cleaned him up and got him in new clothes and swaddled and put him down, he fucking screamed until I picked him up again.
Like, I’ve given him everything his tiny little brain and body could need. That coupled with the strategic shitting and pissing to require the absolute maximum amount of work from me.
The vent here, I guess, is that I fucking hate this. I loved my life with my wife and now we have next to zero intimacy(not sex, obviously, but even our normal physical touch). We have zero time for each other, one is tending the baby, while the other is desperately trying to keep up with cleaning bottles and keeping the house passably clean and there is no time for anything.
I would never let any of what I just said affect how I interact with the baby, but I’m fucking sick of having literally zero independence and I miss my wife (her being in the same bed and next to me most of the day makes it worse somehow).
Fuck.
Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. Check out The Oatmeal, they’ve got a comic about having kids that’s painfully applicable.
Just 3 weeks in? Let it all out now, I suppose.
If I am not mistaken, and I could be easily mistaken, is that part of what you are experiencing is the shift in “daddy hormones”. The physiology of both parents changes once they become parents and you are likely feeling it now. Women obviously have earlier and more impactful changes in that regard. I can only speak from my own experience and mine was very real.
I got no tips or tricks or anything useful that would possibly help. Parenthood doesn’t run on drive-by advice so I won’t attempt to give any. (Get sleep whenever you can as it sounds like you need it. That isn’t advice though: It is a reminder.)
Believe it or not, I am actually overflowing with sympathy. There may or may not be a shit-eating grin on my face, but if there is, it’s a sympathetic one.
Eventually, your experiences above becomes the norm and you get used to the routineless routine. Time will continue to tick forward and patterns will shift as the child gets older.
Intimacy with your SO will return and your frustration is normal. You may get pushed close to breaking over the next few months, but that is OK! Just focus on being a good daddy, no matter what. (The practice should come in handy later.)
Edit: Do you know how to baby-proof a room? Toss them in a space and follow them around for a bit. Their baby radar will immediately find any hidden dangers to chew on in about 15 seconds flat. By the time you mitigate one problem, they will have found the next. After an hour or so, you will have a nearly sterile room. (It’s magical how they do that, actually. This was a joke, but actually kinda isn’t.)
I appreciate the pseudo-sadistic sympathy, it genuinely made me feel a little better. Also the baby proofing advice is solid. We’ve got five cats and our house is pretty buttoned-up as-is, but I’m sure the little one will find weaknesses
Well, I was in your shoes twice. I can laugh a little at my younger self and how absolutely naive I was back then. I also can’t help but chuckle a little at your Ted talk, but it’s not with malice.
Shit just got real for you, I suppose. Humor, even slightly sadistic humor, can be a momentary relief. Even when my kids managed to do the stupidest, unimaginable shit, all I could do sometimes is just shake my head a bit and laugh about it.
Managing five cats is an accomplishment. Managing a creature that has opposable thumbs is going to have some unique challenges. ;)
There’s a very fun two player video game called Who’s Your Daddy. One player is a baby trying to get themselves killed. The other player is a dad frantically trying to baby proof the house. It’s dark as shit and it’s hilarious.
Put the toaster in the bathtub as a red herring to distract dad while you crawl into the oven and you might win.