So, I've had a daughter and she is one years old now. ONE. Anyone who has raised a human being before knows that "one" year, or better said "Year One" is an epic.
These things grow like weeds people. They evolve faster than anything I have ever seen in my life. One day you are staring at something from the blue lagoon (just born babies aren't the same as the picture on the brochure) and then all of the sudden you have a chubby cheeked baby crawling over and into everything.
The journey is frought with terror, sleeplessness, and worry. We never want to hurt their development, but how would you know? There is no score. There is no buzzer. There is no handbook. Hell, some of the "advice" you get is downright rediculous when applied to your baby...read that "YOUR" baby. The lack of a handbook or even a warning label makes for some stressful days. The first time they choke - yeah it happens - you freak out. It isn't because you don't know what to do...because you know you read a book about it. It is because you are watching "YOUR" child struggle. The panic caused by seeing your child in danger is akin to having a brain-ectomy. You freeze.
I think I am straying away here...there is a topic at hand and I think I should stick to it...where the hell was I...oh yes.
Babies in their first year are a challenge. The brochure shows happy babies and pretty babies at that. Babies don't always come out looking like that. Nor do they smile, at first. My daughter was just a lump of flesh that cried, pooped, and squirmed. Sure she was cute. Sure she was A-DOOR-ABLE. That didn't help the fact that she was just a liability at that age. Defenseless and loud were her only qualities outside of cute.
My daughter hated the holy grail of parenting - the car ride. It was supposed to be this AMAZING thing. Just put a baby in a car and drive around...this will give you a sleepy baby. Easy enough for you and your wonderbread kid. My baby hated the car seat, hated the car, and hated me for putting her in the car. Nothing like a few hours of driving to clear your thoughts...with a screaming child in a car seat.
Whatever you bring at me - my daughter hates it. You say your kid loves X brand of yoghurt. Poppycock - My daughter throws it at you. You say your kid can't get enough playing with X toy...hahaha...I waste money on hopes and dreams.
The point is - The first year consists of growing a human being that cannot talk, cannot move on its own, and cannot feed itself. It cannot tell you what hurts or how badly. It cannot show you where. It cannot even tell you why it is crying at all. So for the first year you are helpless. Alone to navigate the embatlements of parent kind. Each new step like a round in minesweeper. All making the first year THE most difficult.
There just isn't enough time in the day to explain it enough. Year ONE is like 7 gray hairs.