"Hello, cruel world!"
Insider #128 putting words (and milk) in a baby's mouth.
Dear Insider,
(and all readers getting a free preview.)
Tomorrow Rohan will complete 4 weeks of life. You could tell me it has actually been 4 months, and I might believe you. Time is only the accumulation of changes we observe in our environment. And so much has happened in the last four weeks - so many diapers, late nights, growth spurts, and milk bottles, and wet wipes, and onesies - that you could say 4 years and I wouldn’t know the difference. Time is elastic inside this apartment in our corner of space at the western edge of the world.
Last month, you generously funded my application for parental leave by becoming Insiders and buying me cups of coffee. In today’s post, some words and lines from the gaps between chores, between one cry and the next, inside the interstitial spaces of early parenthood.
The SneakyArt (Insider) Post is written for paid subscribers and patrons of my work. Every Sunday, I share deeper thoughts, some good words, and the best lines from my journey as an artist and writer and parent.
Support my work by becoming a SneakyArt Insider. All proceeds go towards more diapers for Rohan.
Sometimes Rohan looks at me straight in the eyes. I know it because I can see myself reflected in them. Does he know me yet? Can he recognize a person from sight? It is interesting to consider because so much of his sensory system is not yet fully developed. This week he started noticing bright lights in the house. Clearly, he sees something. But not colours yet. Nor complex shapes.
Also, he does not yet have tear ducts. [Edit: Rohan has developed functioning tear ducts as of the first draft of this post.] I will know the moment he does because Rohan cries at full throttle 5-6 times a day. Or 5-6 times an hour. It is impossible to tell because we no longer keep track of the days. Only the occasional glance at the phone screen reminds us of the time of day, the day of week, and the week of month. The upcoming doctor’s appointment, the call from the lactation consultant, the Amazon deliveries. Then Rohan cries out for milk again, or to have his diaper changed, or because he is uncomfortable, or because he knows no other way to communicate, and we forget about that structured world of time and space that we once inhabited.
Life is compartmentalized into roughly 3-hour blocks that look something like this -
(1) Rohan is suddenly very hungry. He cries as if he has never been fed, as if nobody loves him, as if he has no hope left in his heart, and he has uncovered a great betrayal.
(2) The bottle-warmer takes a couple of minutes but it feels like a couple of hours sometimes. Rohan is soothed, cajoled, distracted, coddled, and bounced, until the lights stop flashing and the nipple can be thrust into his feral mouth. He growls before starting to suck.
(3) Paced feeding requires us to periodically pull the bottle away, prompting more cries of great distress. His arms flail, and his eyes widen in confusion then narrow in rage. You can cry or you can laugh. We do both. This takes about 20 minutes.
(4) Rohan is burped. This requires more distractions and cajoling, and a deft grip on his jaw. Another 20 minutes pass.
(5) At this point, Rohan descends into peaceful slumber or continues agitating. If the latter, it may be time to inspect his diaper.
(6) Undressed, cleaned, changed, pacified, entertained, Rohan is put down to sleep. It is perhaps 90 minutes since he was fed.
(7) We live our lives however we may until the cycle repeats (in an hour or so).
Meanwhile, I have become a Swaddling Expert.
Amateurs will tell you it is just a sleight of hand, but battle-hardened veterans know it to be a game of grit and agility. You must watch for that moment of vulnerability when eyelids droop and arms fall to their side. You must know how tight and where, and how loose and where. You must account for the one arm that will extricate itself regardless of what you do.
I can swaddle Rohan in his sleep as well as in my sleep - in that stage of half-wakefulness where dreams and reality collide, where Dali imagined his paintings. Where I beg and plead under my breath and he locks his eyes with mine and acquiesces. Where we are both locked alone together in our little world.
Where we go back to sleep, until the cycle repeats itself. Because Rohan is suddenly very hungry. Where no one has ever loved him and no one ever will. Where the great injustices of this cruel world have engulfed him completely. Where he has not been fed for hours, days, weeks, even years. Where time does not exist and does not matter.
I switch on the bottle warmer and wait for two minutes. Or two hours, who knows?
🧭 Lessons of Parenthood
It is 1:30 in the morning. A good line occurs to me but I let it pass. All is quiet and I do not want to move. - Insider #127
I have since learned to sleep whenever Rohan sleeps. It took a couple of sleepless nights, followed by restless days, for the lesson to sink in. Thank you Insider
and for the good advice in the comments!Every few minutes, while he sleeps, Rohan throws his arms up in the air. Doctors call this the Moro Reflex, supposedly an evolutionary remnant from our time as primates living on trees. - Insider #126
We used to be afraid of swaddling Rohan. But seeing the Moro Reflex disturb his sleep, we tried swaddling again and thank god for that!
His ears pick up all the frequencies that mine do, but his brain does not parse them the way I can. All sounds are just sounds, and aural reality becomes a broadband of white noise. - Insider #125
Rohan is now more alert to sounds, which is both good news and bad news.
💻 Workshops Past and Future
In last week’s workshop, over 100 participants joined me to learn the essential tips and techniques to draw tiny people. Thank you for your participation and these generous reviews!
The next workshop is later this month. As always, SneakyArt Insiders will get FREE seats and all readers will receive a discount code. To grab your free seat in future workshops, just become a SneakyArt Insider!
🗓️ More info and the sign-up link will go out to all readers next week.
The title of this post is a play on the alternate title of one of my favourite Kurt Vonnegut novels.
“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be very careful about what we pretend to be.” - Mother Night (aka Goodbye, Cruel World).
☕️ Are we Hanging out Next Week?
The next Insiders Hangout is on Saturday, March 9. I will flip through recent sketchbook pages and then we will draw together. Grab your seat below!