A father’s perspective: Things my baby taught me

WASILLA — I’ve noticed something about being a dad. At least subconsciously, a lot of people don’t think it counts until you get in on the ground floor.

Just to explain: I’ve been raising a boy for the past six years. He long ago started calling me his dad and I’ve come to find nothing more natural than to call him my son. I met his mother when he was just 4 years old. For better or worse, I have molded large portions of his personality.

But when our baby was born eight months ago, a lot of people, without stopping to think, asked if I was excited to have become a dad. For courtesy’s sake I didn’t correct them.

And while I still think they were incorrect, there was a reason they thought that way. Raising a baby is a world away from raising a toddler. Probably the most surprising thing is how much my baby has managed to teach me, even without the ability to speak. Here are a few:

1. How to work a regular schedule.

Journalism as a profession demands nontraditional hours. Late meetings need to be covered. News happens at all hours.

At least that’s what I thought.

Coordinating schedules with my wife, who also works full-time, while trying to minimize hours the baby spends in daycare means that I have to go home when I said I will. Our 10-year-old can come to the courthouse with me. Our baby cannot.

For the first time in my adult life I’m actually sticking to the hours I set. It’s a good thing.

2. How to maintain a Zen attitude about sleeplessness.

Everyone who has recently stayed at our place overnight has told us how lucky we are that our baby goes to sleep so well and stays asleep.

But having a baby means less time during the day to do the various chores around the house. These days, I don’t start that kind of work until he’s down for the night.

That leads to a lot of late nights washing bottles and doing laundry, with only the briefest of naps before the baby wakes up.

I used to moan and lament this truth. But having realized that it isn’t going away, I’ve decided to view my sleepiness with detachment. I have no strong feelings about it. In the words of my Buddhism professor, I am “not buffeted by it.”

3. How to speak baby.

The baby had a touch of the flu recently. And by “a touch of the flu” I mean we had to keep him off the good couch for a week.

We ended up at an urgent care clinic one day, mainly hoping to make sure we were hydrating him properly and to make sure this wasn’t something more than the flu. When we arrived he was tired, hungry and inconsolable. The doctor mistook this for pain and diagnosed an ear infection. But our regular pediatrician later overturned that diagnosis.

I knew he wasn’t in pain, but I didn’t say anything, figuring the doctor would know. And while I tend to defer to experts, especially medical experts, I do know how to translate my baby’s cries. I can tell a tired or hungry cry from a pained one. I resolved to speak up next time.

4. How to shoehorn even more stuff into a packed house.

My brother, who is expecting a son of his own at the end of the summer, recently sent me a text message joking that rather than the Military Industrial Complex, Eisenhower should have warned of the Baby Industrial Complex.

It’s true. There is an entire billion-dollar industry built on the fears of fretful parents.

But even those of us who try to minimize our consumption of consumer goods have to buy a boatload of what I’ve come to call baby infrastructure — changing tables, cribs, jumpers, high chairs.

One of my main skills as a father is finding a place to put it all without turning our home into one likely to be featured on an episode of “Hoarders.” Our place is packed like a submarine.

5. How to appreciate sappy storylines.

I remember the first time I really fell in love. A lot of the movie and television plotlines I used to find ridiculous, or characters I thought were acting like morons, started to seem more sympathetic.

People really will do stupid and dangerous things for love.

Likewise, I’ve found myself getting oddly choked up during the sappiest of sitcoms. Sad children really get to me now.

6. How to come to terms with clichés.

I’ve been trying throughout this column to avoid the usual platitudes of parenting columns. But I did want to include a word about how all the tired phrases I’ve come to despise are actually true.

This is tough, demanding, grinding work. But my baby can make up for everything he puts me through just by giggling during a game of peek-a-boo. I love being a dad.