To Soothe and Protect

Nicole had to get ready this morning, and was running short on time. Jackson was crying in his usual maniac howl, and Nicole couldn’t balance his shitty mood with the 15 other tasks to begin her day. This meant I had to forgo running the law firm and put on my Super-Dad costume. I immediately put my 9 week old child into the position he loves best. His crotch sits in my hand, while he lays on his belly with his body running the length of my arm. It is a position that usually quells his unpleasantness instantly, and today it worked like a charm.

Proud of my success, I made my best effort to do some simple tasks at my office desk. After a short while, I felt something cool and wet in my hand, which turned out to be liquid poo. This vile fluid was leaking out of the side of his diaper like coffee dripping through a filter. Coincidentally, I was drinking a cup of cold coffee at the time, and I didn’t immediately make the connection. I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when I saw the light brown liquid, and brought my hand to my face for nasal identification. Thankfully, I didn’t choose to test the diaper juice with my sense of taste.

I am convinced that babies are cute to ensure we don’t eat our young. At some point, I pray, my son will become at least somewhat useful, for as of right now, all he has going for him is that he is adorable, and I love him. In addition to my unending love, I have an overwhelming instinct to protect him. Instinct, however, can be a tricky little bitch when it’s at odds with the conscious mind. This afternoon we brought little Jackson to his two month doctor’s appointment. He weighs 10 pounds and 11 ounces and is 22.5 inches long; perfect. In addition to the two month check-up is the first round of vaccinations. Today, he had two. The first of the two was very simple for both myself and the boy. It was just a sugary syrup in the mouth. He loved it. Jackson’s little brain was so flooded with sugar and delight that I could almost forget that this man of science was pouring some type of virus or disease into my baby.

Next came the needle. I knew it was coming. I personally hate needles, and when he stuck it into Jackson’s little leg, I was blown away that my strong little guy didn’t peep...until the doctor pushed the syringe to inject the serum. The second I heard my baby scream, I felt like a lion wanting to rip open the animal that threatened his cub. But alas, it was over in a heartbeat and there was no time for me to tear off the doctor’s limbs. I had to settle for my backup instinct; soothing the wound. The doctor told us that this particular vaccine could cause Jackson to cry inconsolably for three to five hours. Well, within five minutes, my little boy was sound asleep in my arms, drooling on my shirt, and transferring every bit of his pain to me with his vice-like grip on my chest hair.