Jason M. Jones

I spent the past two days at home with my son. Though my daughter goes to preschool, my son doesn’t, and since our plans for childcare fell through, I stayed home from work to take care of him. This is the first time with him. In fact, one of the nicest things about this was that, although I get to spend plenty of one-on-one time with my daughter, it’s been rare so far that I’ve been able to have one-on-one time with my son. After all, he’s only seven months old, and yes, I have the odd hour or two with me and him alone. But so far, it’s never been the full day with just us. The first day, too, was bliss. I’m not too complicated in terms of my desires these days. I like being with my kids with an hour or two while they nap to focus on my writing. It might become monotonous after a while, but because it’s rare for me, I still love it. Then, too, it’s also the case that with your first child that you’re learning how to take care of a kid. With your second you know. It’s still a lot of work, but because you know the routine, the work isn’t as difficult. Change the diaper, hang out and play for a bit, put him down for a nap, feed him when he wakes, repeat (I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, the hardest part of having a second kid is still the first kid, because we’re still in uncharted territory with her).

I will admit the first day was better than the second. But this was less because the responsibility was bearing down on me and more because my son and I caught matching late-spring colds. At first I’d thought it was allergies and didn’t get to treating it until too late. Usually I can shake a cold in a couple days using zinc, water, and rest. But if I miss it and confuse it with allergies, it catches hold, which this one has done. I suppose I gave it to my son, though it seems the first symptoms synched up pretty well. Runny nose and cough, etc. The first day with him, I dosed myself with DayQuil, and I was productive both in taking care of him and in working on my novel edit during his naps. But by today I’d run out of the medicine. I was feeling achy and run down, and so when he napped, I napped. When he woke, I woke, still feeling rundown. And my shirt today was a curtain of boogers. Not to mention after his second feeding, he spit up what seemed like half a bottle down my left shoulder.

It’s all in a day’s work. I’m not complaining. Honestly, boogers and spit up aside, I was happy. With a seven month old on the hip the day is pretty low key. It takes the three year old to spark things up, to bring the energy and drama to the day. At the end of the week, my wife cares for both of them, and it’s not a situation I envy. On the weekend, naturally, both of us are here. We split the difference. I’m usually with our daughter and she’s with our son, and even then our daughter wears us both out and tests our patience. It’s the age she is. She willfully filters out anything she doesn’t want to hear. She has no awareness of how her body poses a threat to others when she flails about and gets spastic. I enjoy time with both of them in different ways. But the mellowness of these past few days, even feeling the way I do, which is tired, ready for bed at six in the evening, was refreshing. I’d like to do it more before he grows up.