Generation 3 · August 16, 2024 0

3.153 Another one

It’s 3 a.m., and I’m jolted out of that good good sleep because Desiree is screaming like she’s trying to raise the dead or something. I jolt up, disoriented and dazed, and dash to the nursery to see what she needs, but when I get there, I see that she is flat out pissed. Of course, I don’t like that she is unhappy, but her little down-turned eyebrows and poked out lip make me laugh. She looks like I owe her money or something, heh. Infant life is so hard. Your caretakers are asleep when you’re awake, you can’t do anything for yourself, and to top it off, there’s no one to hold you at night. That’s what she’s really mad about because as soon as I pick her up, everything is peachy. She’s getting so smart and figured out how to game the system and bend it to her will. When she screams, I come running and pick her up. Fortunately for her, I love holding her. At some point, however, she’s going to have to learn she can’t be in our arms 24/7.

She’s so beautiful and looks more and more like Sophia every day. And she’s strong too. I think it’s time to get her mobile, or at least sitting up on her own. Then we can feed her in the highchair and start exploring different foods. As fun as that adventure sounds, I also kinda want her to stop growing for a little while. Tami, Dub’s daughter, is a toddler already, and it feels like she was just born a few days ago. They grow up too fast, and before we know it, they’ll be in high school making googly eyes at boys.

I tried to put her back in the crib a few times, but she had a fit at every attempt. It was just after dawn when she was sleepy enough to accept I know best. I need a nap too, but there’s no use in trying to go back to sleep now. The sun is rising, so I grab Rosie and go for a jog. Fresh air and an increased heart rate will wake me right up. It’s been a minute since we’ve done this, and she is stoked. My knees, on the other hand, are not. (sigh)

When I get to Dad’s house, I want to stop in and say hello even though I know he’s not there. It’s so weird seeing it there, waiting for me to do something with it. I know grief is a process, and eventually I’ll get to a place where seeing it brings back happy memories instead of reminders that he is no longer with us, but I want to be there now.

It’s funny how being a parent changes how I look at the world. Things I’ve ignored for years suddenly become relevant. Like, I just realized there’s a park behind his house. I probably saw it many times and forgot about it because it had nothing to do with me. But today, I feel like I’m seeing it for the first time and am glad Desi won’t have to go too far to meet other kids and stretch her imaginative wings. At least I hope there are other children in this neighborhood. All the ones I knew are all grown up now. Regardless, there are plenty of places in this city where we can take her to socialize.

Just as I headed back home, Mama called to tell me Dwayne had passed away. I give her my condolences and tell her we’ll be around as soon as Sophia wakes up. This is just not our family’s week. Mama lost both her loves pretty much at the same time, and despite my feelings about that situation, it can’t be easy for her to deal with, and I feel for her. But what alarms me the most is knowing her time is even shorter than I thought, and I don’t know how to reconcile that.