The few days have been stressful.
This shouldn’t be unexpected – babies can be a source of joy as well as stress. This feels a little different. That stress is balanced with knowing, or thinking that you know, what to expect which makes everything feel more acute. You think you know how to handle the lack of sleep but the telemetry has changed. You think you know your three year old but his orbit has also been altered. You think you know yourself – think that the stress can be solved using what you thought you knew, and then you realize that you are not who you think.
The Three Body Problem, before it became yet another Netflix television adaptation of Chinese novel, was an orbital mechanics issue. Without this becoming an online physics course, the three-body problem is how to predict the outcome when a system of two objects of similar mass incorporate a third object. Much like the three-body problem, Ruby’s impact on the system has not been predictable and has been a stressful.
The mass of two little people, the needs of your partner, the needs of friends, family – and probably just as important – the needs of yourself are a lot to account. Thinking that I could presume or calculate the emotional and physical impacts beforehand was kind of ridiculous. The impact has made me – us – more emotionally raw, more sensitive. I’m more surly and short tempered than I typically am, which is probably saying something. I am also more careless.
This week, at the fatigue point, I almost put Ruby in jeopardy. She’s fine, no apparent harm was done but a lost focus. I cannot express the astonishing magnitude of my guilt. The horror of what could have happened causes me to breakdown in tears that I have no tools to solve or avoid. I’m better now thanks to Lara, but I see this as a result of an error in my calculation of my personal three-body problem.
Not every impact is so catastrophic. I can’t stop thinking about how my meaning well neighbor mowed the grass too low. I’m trying to exercise restraint and and not through his mower in the middle of Missouri Avenue. I reseeded the low sections, pulled the dying grass, watered and fertilized it. We are talking about make a square foot of grass – maybe. Proportions have been blown out.
Jaxon is coping as best as a three year old can. He must deal with so many changes all at once. He has a new baby sister, is potty training has been a bit extra emotional as he copes his new orbit. A couple of weeks ago, Jaxon had he been in daycare for only about 2 full days in the last 7 because of a cavalcade of issues including him being “sickish” for 3 days and the daycare’s HVAC system being on the fritz. He saw that not only was Ruby in Lara and my bedroom but she spends entire days with us while he’s at daycare. He conveys some of this acknowledgement of Ruby’s status but saying, “I want my mommy and daddy”, or that he doesn’t want to go to daycare.
Part of me feel like I’ve let him down. As an only child, I uniquely understand what he could be going through. Imagine being the center of attention, the most important person in the house, the person everyone wants to see – to being “the other child”. I spoke about this a few weeks ago but I do think that he’s struggling a bit. It’s not that he’s turned into a monster, he’s still a loving and special kid, but he goes out of his way to draw attention to himself – both good and bad. Lara and I are trying to help him and we have a slightly differing perspectives on how to do it. It’s a challenge, especially now as again, we’re tired. However, I think Jaxon has a good foundation and parents who love him. Hopefully, that will solve any problem – regardless of the number of bodies.