Solo Parenting (As Mixtape)

As many of you may recall, if you were paying attention late last week, Beth attended a wedding on Sunday, leaving me with Sole Parenting Duties.  Here now, are my reflections on that day, complete with musical accompaniment.  And yes, I'm fully aware that this whole thing first appeared - a whole 35 seconds ago - on my own site but it is, after all, pretty DadCentric.

She Dropped Me The Bomb by Kix
When the hand off was made and Beth was out the door, everything seemed like it was going to go fine.  I was happy and, more importantly, Mia was happy.  Little did I know, things were going to change.  Actually, I did know it was going to change.  I'm no pessimist.  I'm a realist.  Which is an optimistic term for a pessimist.

New Slang by The Shins
I'm not a guy who fills silences well.  In fact, I dig silence.  But that doesn't work with an infant.  So I had to talk.  And, as wonderful as she is, Mia's not yet a startling conversationalist.  It was slightly one-sided.  But maybe silence would have been better than some of the crap coming out of my mouth.  Note to self:  when you ask your daughter if she pooped, try to avoid using crass terminology once she's old enough to repeat it.
Correct:  Did you poop?
Incorrect:  Hey Mia, did you drop a deuce?

Songs For A Blue Guitar by Red House Painters
I'm no good at math but I found the following equation worked out pretty well for me - bouncy seat + guitar = good.  My guitar playing?  A hit.  If Mia were making record deals, I'd be on the charts.  Well, it was important that ever word of ever song I played was Mia.  I'm sure that didn't hurt.

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran
It had to happen.  Mia would, inevitably, get hungry.  And want boobs.  But me?  I have no boobs.  Or, to be more accurate, the boobs I have are purely ornamental.  For display purposes only.  Mia's cute and all but when she's hungry, you know it.

Bottle of Smoke by The Pogues
To say that the bottle was well-received would be like saying...well...it would be like telling a complete and utter lie.  Of epic proportions.  A Richard Nixon I am not a crook kinda lie.  An I don't know where she picked it up because never in my life have I ever used a phrase like 'dropping a deuce' kinda lie.  And then... 

I Guess I'll Have to Cry, Cry, Cry by James Brown
...the crying began.  And kept going, like the Energizer Bunny.  Mia’s got endurance.  Lucky for me the three-hour marathon Scream For Boobie Fest 2005 was interrupted by a few little naps when the poor thing wore herself down. 

Under Pressure by Queen
When she wasn’t sleeping, she was screaming and, while I pretty much kept my cool, I felt like I had to do something.  I mean, here was my daughter, bitching at me for not satisfying her every need and, more specifically, not having a good, productive pair of tits.  I read books, I sang, I broke out the guitar again (but that ship had sailed), I made funny noises and the requisite funny faces to go along with them and I danced around with rattles.  But very little worked.  And by very little, I mean nothing.

Swing On This by Alice In Chains
Finally, the swing.  Once maligned, the swing was my savior.  After hours of screaming and intermittent napping, the swing did the trick.  Sure, I tried to bottle feed again afterwards and sure, I was rejected like a bottle of Boone’s at a French wine tasting event.  But at least she smiled at me while she did it.

Thumbing My Way by Pearl Jam
The one thing I tried that did, eventually, catch on was the swing.  That, and reintroducing Mia to her thumb.  For some odd reason, the digit seemed to have slipped her mind.  Once introductions were made and they started making nice, things got a little better.  Not  inordinately better, but at least quieter.

Napoleon by Ani DiFranco
Whilst changing Mia and getting her ready for bed I think I heard Mia say her first word.  It started as just a random noise but she gradually worked up to it.  eh…eh…eh…eb…ebb…ebba….el…elb…elbuhhh…Elba.  That’s it, people.  She said Elba, the island where Napoleon was first exiled.  I told her as much.  Never in my life did I think I’d ask my daughter if she just referred to Napoleon’s first place of exile.  Mia looked justifiably mystified when her father asked Elba?  Did you say Elba?  The island on which Napoleon was first exiled?  I shit you not.  Now, did you know Napoleon’s brother ended up living in New Jersey?

Emotional Rescue by The Rolling Stones
At long last, Beth called.  She was on her way.  There was rejoicing in the streets.  And by streets, I mean the living room.  Mia was happy.  Mom, not to mention the accompanying boobies, were on the way.  After all, she’s spent a good part of the day rejecting a bottle and, instead, sucking on my neck.  I’ve got the hickies to prove it.

The End by The Beatles
All-in-all, the day played out just as I'd assumed it would.  What I underestimated, however, was he bond that seemed to form between us.  And I'm not just talking about the bond between her lips and my neck.  No, I loved Mia before and I'm pretty sure she felt reasonably fond of me but, somehow, being the sole provide, being the guy who had to change all of the diapers, wipe off drooly chins, rock her to sleep, attempt to feed and, hold her when she cried and wipe away the tears that were falling really did something to me.  My daughter rocks, guys.  And so does my wife, not that I ever doubted it.  Being away was hard for her but she did it.  Then she swooped in and saved the day, laughed at my hickies and flawlessly recited Goodnight Moon in its entirety while getting Mia to sleep.  I love...and I am loved.  And I've got the hickies to prove it.