Since I’ve Been Gone

This shit is hard. I mean the baby thing, sure – but the blogging too. Doing one of them directly impacts doing the other, and is the sole reason I’ve fallen behind. Over two months of missed posts might not seem like much, not in the grand scheme of things. But you’ve heard “how fast they grow,” and all that (“they” being blogs and babies). If I don’t stay organized, things are going to just slip past me.

The Mostly Metal Dad blog and my daughter are both labors of love. They both require effort. And although baby care takes a colossal amount more effort than dumb metal blog posts, I’m usually too drained to write them at the rate I used to. I used to write posts while watching over Gorgonna at night – it wasn’t even that long ago! The nights are shorter now, and the need for a decent night’s rest is more urgent than it’s ever been. And with the wife back at work, a lot of the caretaking has gone to me.

Why the change, you ask? Well, Gorgonna is four months old now. She’s doing a lot of growing — physically mostly, though mentally too.

She’s sitting up. You ever see Hugh Jackman in one of his many roles as Wolverine? From the X-Men? That’s about the ferocity that Gorgonna can lift herself up out of her bed. Elbows back, primal scream emitting from her throat, and everything.

She talks constantly. Yeah, it’ll be a while before she can recite “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.” But her vocal range has expanded considerably in a few short weeks. From chirps and babbles to juicy raspberries, bubbling with spit, Gorgonna is gearing up to spew out a vocalized barrage to make up for her nine-month vow of silence.

She can flip over. She was already two months ahead of the curve when we had to stop swaddling her. One flip is all it takes, right? Only now she’s practically goddamn Bruce Dickenson, jumping off all our monitors and prancing about the stage. She hasn’t flipped her shit yet (yes, I mean that literally), but one bad roll is all it’ll take. I’ve managed to catch them so far, but how long can my luck last?

It’s easy for me to forget that in spite of all of Gorgonna’s, uh, achievements, that she’s still not much more developed than a fetus. Five-plus months isn’t a long time on this earth – not by normal human standards, at least. But then that isn’t what we’re dealing with at all, is it? This baby, this creature, is everything I’ve said she is – a monster, a creature, and most of all, mine. I’m going to take care of her no matter how monstrous she might get.

All in all, there’s a lot of growing to be had. For all of Gorgonna’s being ahead of the pack, there’s a lot she needs to play catch up on. The first few weeks of bottle-feeding did not go well. Having to take care of a baby who won’t take a bottle — not very metal. Under normal circumstances, I only like listening to screaming all day if it’s got blast beats behind it. But this is my life now; I don’t get to be picky about what I do with it. Luckily, she skipped that stage and went straight to a sippy cup. Like, thanks, baby! Fuck the veritable fleet of bottles and different nipple types we had bought! Why didn’t you just say you didn’t want it? Right, right. She’s a baby. But those are two weeks of gray hairs we’ve earned. That’s fine; I’ve always admired the Jon Schaffer look.

Gorgonna also isn’t a great sleeper. She probably sleeps a couple hours during the day, and rarely on her back. Many nights over the past few months started and ended with her in a car seat instead of one of the many cribs and sleepers she has. She’s getting better at sleeping in her crib, but it doesn’t last long. Maybe she needs to skip this stage too and go straight for a twin-size four-post bed.

I realize there wasn’t much “metal” to this post. That’s bound to happen, I guess. If you have to endure one of these every once in awhile, tough. Not even Iron Maiden has a completely flawless track record. One day, I’m sure I’ll have a gigantic parental fuck-up to tell you about. Until then, you’ll just have to bear with me. My daughter is, after all.

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