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     Having a child has taught me one very important thing – I am a very selfish person. Comparing myself to others around me I could conclude that I’m really not that bad. I’m relatively patient, loving, generous, self-sacrificing so on and so on. But, I’ve known for a long time that comparing myself to others is an unreliable measure; a course fraught with many perils – not least of which is my own ability to justify and excuse my own actions while at the same time being a merciless judge of others. I am self aware enough not to fool myself into thinking that just because I think I’m a “better” person than my neighbor doesn’t mean I am a good person.

     It’s rather easy to hide one’s selfishness. At least it’s easy for me to hide it from myself. This is one of the benefits of the ego – it can protect one’s psyche by preventing one from seeing one’s true nature. There are very few situations in which the ego is overwhelmed by reality. It’s even pretty easy to hide one’s selfishness in marriage. Again, at least I think so. It doesn’t demand a complete surrender of one’s freedom – some but not complete. I can still very easily seek to fulfill my own wants and desires – keeping the relationship revolving around myself; only giving when I get something back in return. And, in the end, I can always pretend that it’s Jessi who’s the selfish one. I can play the self-righteous martyr.

     However, I can’t do any of that with Cosette. I can’t blame Cosette. My world is now forced to revolve around Cosette’s needs and desires; I’m on her schedule. I am her slave, and must scramble to fulfill her every whim. The hardest, and most frustrating part, is trying to figure out what it is exactly she wants. I take it as a personal offense when she continues to cry as I’m desperately trying to comfort her. I feel like my love is being rejected – it’s not good enough. That’s when I want to flip out.

     I love Cosette and would die for her. It’s the not getting to go where we planned when we want to, because she has decided she needs to eat for four hours; her constant desire to be held and entertained when awake – I had to eat my Thanksgiving diner with one hand, because she needed to suck on the index finger on my other hand; her inability to sleep by herself – so I have to clean the house while carrying her around; her complete refusal to wait even two minutes to be fed when she wants to be fed; it’s having to concentrate all my soothing powers upon her for forty minutes in the middle of the night in order to get her to sleep; it’s the lack of time I have to get anything done – like write my blog; it’s the constant pain my shoulders are in from holding her. Most of all it’s her anguished screams while I’m desperately trying to appease her. Those screams are the most terrible thing I’ve ever experienced, they push me to the limits of my emotional stability. I’d rather run a marathon. I can’t even fathom what Jessi is going through.

     I was hoping Cosette would change me. I was hoping she would make me a better person. But, I was hoping it would be some magical transformation that happened instantly. I’d just see her, and my love for her would overwhelm the evil which dwells inside me; all the selfishness would be pushed out by my love and I’d become a new man. I suppose I will be made into a better person if I die to myself more and more each day and choose to love her even when it’s not easy. But, first I get to be broken down. Cosette can’t make me a better person, but I’m starting to understand how God will be able to use this situation to make me a better person – a better father and husband. Cosette can’t fix me, but I’m thankful that she can be a part of my restoration. And really, what else do I have to do right now that’s more important than take care of baby (and wife).