The Deep End
A wise man once said: “but it wasn't all fun and soaking butts”.
This kid shit is hard. Those weeks where everything seems to go sideways. That's where you earn your badges. Those moments that seem like the universe is conspiring against you. Those days when you feel like you need a 4 hour nap.
Julia frequently says "it's a privilege to have these problems".
So easy to say. So hard to be felt in the right way in those moments.
But at least I can always take a step back and know it to be true. I feel like that gives me a leg up on this whole thing. When things are at their worst, a step back to really internalize those words becomes so critical.
8/14/26
Jack had his first proper tough week.
Daycare. It started with daycare giving us a ring 2 hours into the week. Jack has a fever, he needs to come home, and he can’t come back until he’s been 24 hours without a fever. That’s a bitch slap when your calendar is full of calls and your week is solidly in place. The on the fly juggling of work and life is not the most fun. It’s now Friday and we hope we’re close to the light at the end of this tunnel. It’s been a hell of a week.
Projectile vomit (x2). A certain new emotion hits you when you are being puked on in that way. You kind of just turn into a statue. Frozen in the moment, with disgust and concern in equilibrium. Minimal joy.
Fevers. Putting a thermometer in Jacks anus is kinda funny. Getting that beep with 102.7 showing, and then considering urgent care is not that funny. Then a few hours later clocking in with no fever. Then a few hours after that another 102 clock. Then another round of thinking about urgent care.
Tylenol and booger suckers. Jack’s least favorite activities to date. Something about that sweet cherry. Something about straight jacketing your child. He would make it seem as though he has entered the torture chamber. Add the booger sucker into the mix while you’re at it. Sure, you might get the booger out — but there’s a sneaking suspicion that you’re also maybe hurting his brain. A true and holistic “fuck this life” attitude.
Poop. With this one we’ve had more practice. The amount of times Julia and I have discussed some combination of “Blu and Poop” is in the thousands. This is just like that, amplified. Did the poop have mucus? Or blood? Was it too runny? Did it appear to be diarrhea? Maybe we should pull out the magnifying glass. Let’s take pictures. It’s part of the deal.
5/3/26
Wizard Fight, Weedeater - Jack is starting to come around to metal, which is good.
Upon Jack’s arrival, I was quick to update my insurance and move forward with a knee surgery — the dark cloud over my head for the past 2 years. On one hand, stoked to finally fix this thing that’s been nagging at me. On the other hand, stressed about the road to recovery, especially with the baby. I tried hard to focus on “glass half full” , but I couldn’t get there. In full honesty, I was throwing myself a pity party, with a known and bleak depression scheduled for the month of May.
Let’s make it pour.
Figured I’d get a vasectomy in the same week and line up my recovery windows. The right move. Good execution.
And miserable, as anticipated.
And if a knee surgery and vasectomy in the same week wasn’t already hard enough. Let’s add the Flu, hitting the day before surgery. And of course, passing the flu to Jack.
Two people in the household with the flu
Knee surgery, can’t walk
Vasectomy, balls really hurt
Not being able to walk makes the baby thing extremely hard. As a man of few (yet effective) tricks, walking was among the top of the desired and effective tricks for “fixing” a fussy baby. No more. When Jack was sleeping on my chest post feed, all good. Any other situation? Disaster.
The vasectomy. Let me tell you. Holy hell. That hurt. The sharp lightning bolts of pain, directly to my balls. So much so that it would create a churning of my stomach and intestines. Sitting in my rocker. Legs up. Ice pack on the balls. Ice pack on the knee. Heating pad on the stomach. Fuck me. Luckily I had oxys and edibles, a minor consolation prize.
The depth of darkness in the tunnel was short lived. Within a few days I was able to walk around the house. And after a few days, the balls recovered.
The ability to do a short walk around the neighborhood with Blu and Jack has never been more valued. When you’re on the other side, the gratitude really kicks in. “Loving life” because you can walk around the block is a beautiful thing.