Childcare, love, life

At the time when I was having a hard time with childcare, which was my first time in my life, and of course, I still had a hard time, but at that time, my mother called me from home.

I asked him how he was doing at dawn, and when he was awake at dawn, he cried and cried instead of lying down quietly, and his mother replied with a smile.

“Don’t suffer too much. My son is much more precious than your son.”

Is this the mother’s heart? It seems that the child born with a stomachache is more important than the child born with a child. Is mother’s love stronger than grandmother’s love? But as I listened to the answer, I thought to myself. It’s probably because you haven’t seen your grandson in person yet. You won’t even remember your son’s face when you see his smiling, innocent baby face.

It was that evening. When darkness came to cover the room, the child cried without fail. It was a loud cry that seemed to be squeezed out of the stomach, expressing one’s intention with all one’s body. It’s like the Mad Clown in its prime is a ‘hit-in-the-ear’ rap. He changed diapers three times in a short period of time, breastfeeding alternately on his wife’s left and right sides, and because he didn’t fill the castle with milk, he also burned powdered milk and fed it. Even though he seems not very hungry, he keeps whining for more food. I’m crying again if I wasn’t satisfied with it’s like I’m going to steal it. I’m going to spill half of it, and I can’t digest the rest of it. To my mother’s shame, today is also a day of hard work.

As soon as the stormy time, which seemed unlikely to end, passed and took a breather, the wife suddenly began to sniff. Parenting is harder than I thought. Since I am at work from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m., I can bear it, but how hard is it for a wife who has to take care of her child all day long? I just feel sorry for you. And it’s time for sincere consolation.

“I’m sorry to the child, but you’re the most precious person to me.”

The child whispered to his wife’s ear just in case. There’s a story of Huang Hui. Even a yellow cow, a black cow, who can’t speak, can be hurt on one side if you say aloud which cow works better. He is still a child who cannot understand what he says, but he cannot openly say in front of him, “I love my mother more than you.” My wife, too, may be empty, still answers, ‘I love myself more than a child.’ It was a whispering remark as I did. I didn’t really want to hear the same answer from my wife, but I was relieved for some reason. It is said that it is love to give unilaterally, but it is also love not to face a catastrophe only when the exchange of equivalents is smooth.

By the way, a new life has been born, and my father, mother, and even my grandmother are saying in unison that other people are more precious than you. I’m sorry, baby. When will someone who likes you more than you, who tells you that you are number one in life, appear?

By the end of the 100 days, however, I began to feel a crack in my wife’s and me’s solid “priority.”

The wife gradually fell in love with the child. Sheep in an indescribable swamp. He looks at the sleeping child’s face and suddenly says this.

“You really look like you want to kiss me. Isn’t it so cute?”

“Then I…?

“What are you, what am I supposed to do?”

The answer my wife gives me as she turns her head and looks at my face while looking at the child is cold. It’s the look of a person who has seen something he won’t see. Just as Heo Yu washed his ears in water saying he heard something he couldn’t hear when he asked for a savior in Chinese history, he looks at the child’s face again as if he had to clean up his dirty eyes.

Obviously, three months ago you said you loved me the most in the world. I guess I’m not your number one priority now. Strange jealousy is creeping up, and I’m embarrassed to see if it’s okay for a child’s father to be immature. I had to follow my wife and look her in the face. Well, you look like you want to kiss. In fact, I wonder how he can be so cute. My wife is right. I want to kiss my child more than my wife. But you have to put up with it. I heard that if you kiss a newborn, the cavity in an adult’s mouth can get infected.

After a few years, both of us may end up with pictures of our Kakao Talk profiles. Just like parents do, and when they ask who is the most precious person in life, forgetting the love that they exchanged just a few years ago, they may be the ones who say “Of course it’s our child.” But I don’t know yet. Children are not so lovely as to think only of children, children, and children. We were happy enough when we didn’t have children and we still miss the life of that time. But how can everyone be looking at their children? There are times when I worry that paternal love, which seems to be owned by everyone else, may not be enough for me. On the first day of school after the long vacation, other friends have done their exploratory life homework, but they are worried because they couldn’t solve a single page alone.

Maybe he understood me. I should have said it in a smaller voice.

Since the day when I confessed that my wife is more precious than my child, I think my child likes my mother more than my father. No matter how hard I feed her, burp her, play with her, and work hard, she bursts into tears when I hug her, and her wife just hugs her, but she stops crying and laughs. Even when I’m sleepy, I have to hold my wife in my arms to fall asleep. She is frowning because she doesn’t like something, but when her wife calls her, she responds with a big smile. Do you hate your dad or do you like your mom better? If I had known this would happen, I should have told her out loud that you were the number one priority in life, whether she was hurt or not.

Still, we cannot leave a crying child to his wife alone. I have no choice but to solve the problem in my own way. Hold the crying child in your arms and let him hear the sound of the wind. If it doesn’t work, I sing a song. They sing lullabies, sing children’s songs cutely, or even hum a hymn when they don’t go to church these days. The desire to rely on God comes and goes. When I can’t do this, I sometimes watch ASMR videos on YouTube. The sound of the valley water, the sound of grass bugs, and the sound of raindrops work quite well. They also stroke their stomachs, massage their limbs, or force them to lie down. If that doesn’t work, I just keep hugging and walking around. I’ll get tired of crying. The problem is that I get tired first. Please don’t cry anymore. I’m going to die because I’m so tired. My wife laughs at me for being embarrassed.

“You can’t even put the child to sleep? Are you a father?”

And add one more word in a whimpering way.

“Because I don’t really love my son. What’s her rank in your life?”

No, look at him.

Why do you do this when you look at your wife with such a lovely look on your face?