On parenting; Ode to Moms; Grass on Grass

Sophia and Papa enjoy a nap. I've added more photos online, and will continue to do so. The newest pictures are at the bottom of the list.

I've only been a dad for three days now, and while I enjoy it far more than I ever thought I would, I must say it can also be pretty tiring at times. Sophia doesn't really like to do anything other than sleep and eat right now, and even the latter part of that combination is given a rather secondary importance in her young mind -- this despite the fact that she's a good bit smaller than other babies her age. But she's helped us to realize the driving force behind a few basic human experiences -- why moms all over the world always worry about whether your coat is warm enough clothes or if you're eating enough, for example.

Practically speaking, we're also learning some little tricks to get Sophie to drink all of her milk, to burp on cue, to help us change her clothes, and to let us change her diaper. I'm sure it sounds easy enough, but imagine what it must feel like to be so drowsy that you keep falling asleep while eating dinner. Surround yourself by giants and poop your pants, and then you might have some small notion of what it feels like to be my daughter these days. She's still tuckered from the birth, and frankly, I'm pretty dopey myself when I finally come home from the hospital (although I know you are all clicking away desperately on your browser's bookmark to my blog, waiting for the next update, so I stay up anyway and write.)

Pooped as I may be at the end of the day (fortunately for me I mean it in the figurative sense here), I must say I have a new found respect for Conny and for all mothers out there. Although I have to worry about the things I mentioned above, she has a much heavier load. Not only is she still a little sore from the birth, she is the most important source for Sophia's nutrition. Sophie doesn't always want to suckle directly, so we have to hook Mama up to this hydraulic breast pump so that we can give her more from a bottle. According to Conny: the pump works "exactly the way it looks," and if you ask me, it looks like some kind of cross between a science fiction gizmo and a Guantanamo Bay torture device. But still, she has to pump about eight times a day and doesn't really complain about it -- even though I can't keep a straight face when she switches it on.

Furthermore, she has to wake up twice in the middle of the night to pump and to feed Sophie as well, so she hasn't really slept a full night since before she gave birth. So next time you think about sneering at the woman breastfeeding at the park or at the playground, well, don't sneer. Your mom went through a lot, not only to bring you into this world, but also to keep you alive when you were so young and helpless you didn't care if your pants were soiled or not. Moms are amazing people.

Interesting Grass article: One of the few non-baby things I've done since Sophie was born was to read my latest New Yorker, which has a very interesting "Personal History" article by the Nobel Prize-winning author Günter Grass. He recently acknowledged having enlisted in the Waffen SS as a teenager during World War II -- controversial because he had been highly critical of some Germans who made the same or similar decisions -- and this autobiographical article explores his memories of that time and tries to come to conclusions about why he made the choices he made. It's the first time I've seen this account translated into English, and it's very interesting reading for anyone who is interested in that time period or in Grass. And if you haven't read The Tin Drum or at least seen the movie, well, go check it out.