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iamsoneurotic · 5 years

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Enter, Levi: The Final Chapter Part II

8 Months later is better than never I guess.

I had intended to write a second post about Levi’s birth (as I did with both Milo and Noli), but as it turns out, free time isn’t really a thing when you have 3 kids. Go figure. Anyway, where did I leave off… The boy was born.

The C-section left Rachael bedridden for the duration of our stay at the hospital, which is pretty typical. From what I’ve been told, it’s not so bad - the doctors load you up with pain meds and you’re out the door in a couple of days, ready to take on the world with a baby in one hand and a bottle full of pills in the other. Well, due to an allergy to Ibuprofen, Rach was denied the good drugs and had to settle for a less effective Tylenol substitute which may have been less effective than somebody flicking her in the ear to distract her from the pain in her healing wound. To make matters even worse, she was fighting a horrible cough and every hack of the lung made her feel like she was being gutted like a fish.

As sort of an icing on the crap cake, her IV slipped out of her vein at some point during the first night and caused her arm to swell and rash. Her stay was divine to say the least.

Speaking of crap cakes, guess who was on diaper duty by default! Well that’s nothing new, I’m usually on diaper duty just because my lovely wife secretly loathes me (we have a dog now, by the way. Guess who gets the honor of cleaning up his little backyard nuggets). This particular series of diaper changes, however, stands out more than the others because Levi pooped a mountain’s worth over the next few weeks. Not exaggerating. He went through every phase on the newborn poo color wheel in a matter of hours. Something was clearly afoot, I’ve been around this whole breastfeeding business for a while now and I know for a fact he was exporting more than he was taking in. Pretty sure milk doesn’t have corn in it either.

There’s a video of his first changing… I can’t even post it. It’s just that awful. I don’t even know why we would have filmed something like that in the first place.

One last poo item to discuss - there was one nurse who was a complete POS. Her shift consisted of coldly telling Rachael to suck it up and walk so they could discharge us and berating her about everything she did ranging from how she breastfed Levi to, I don’t know, the way she wore her hair that day. She was a real piece of work. Not sure if there’s a polite way to wish Ebola on somebody, but I’m all ears.

There was a bright side to Rachael being confined to her bed, it meant I got more time to hold Levi. Given the stress of his birth, I had no desire to ever put him down - thank goodness he only weighed a little over 6lbs, our lightest one yet!

I noticed while holding him that he bore a striking resemblance to Don Rickles.

Leading up to the birth, I had “joked” that I was looking forward to the time away from the kids while we stayed at the hospital. I was wrong, I missed my babies. Before we had left, Noli was really upset that we were leaving him - that image of him sitting on the steps broken hearted was burned into my brain the whole visit. Milo didn’t seem to care much, he gets away with more when daddy’s not home (Noli was yet to figure this out). So after 2 days of not showering, Rachael approved of my release so I could go home, see the boys, scrub the thin layer of Italian grease off of my flesh, and let her mom see the baby for a while.

It was a nice little visit. The boys and I wrestled, built Legos, and I showed them pictures of the baby. Noli was needier than usual and didn’t like that I had to leave again to go back to the hospital, luckily my mom stopped by to take the boys to her place so I could catch a break for a few… For the record, however, I didn’t take a break for fear that Rachael would sense my relaxation and unleash the hordes of hell upon me.

Advice for any new dads out there: NEVER enjoy yourself while your wife is in pain or holding a child. Don’t close your eyes, don’t smile, don’t sit comfortably in a chair, and if you absolutely HAVE to eat, make sure the food gives you indigestion… But not diarrhea, because woman have figured out that bathrooms are a man’s place of peace. There can be no peace.

…

I’m literally not kidding.

Long story short - she thought I was gone too long and as penance, I bought her Pei Wei and she reluctantly showed mercy.

I screwed a number of things up with this birth. First was posting Levi’s picture to Facebook before Rachael had even seen him, second was having the audacity to take a shower at our house, and the third thing happened after being discharged from the hospital. When we got home, I rushed the baby into the house so he wouldn’t get cold. Inside the house my parents were waiting with cameras to film the boys’ reaction to the new addition. Well, in my haste, I failed to wait for Rachael (who was hobbling up the sidewalk in excruciating c-section pain) - depriving her of the opportunity to see the boys’ reaction live. I’m currently serving a life sentence in the doghouse for my foolish ways.

All screw-ups aside, the evening went well. Noli, who we were most nervous about adjusting to a newborn, held the baby in his lap (with heavy amounts of assistance). It was a giant relief. Milo loved the kid at first sight, 8 months later he’s still in love with the little guy… I’m a proud dad. My parents went home, Rach attempted sleep, and late that evening I wrote “Enter, Levi: The Final Chapter Part I”. A masterpiece in biographical storytelling.

For the next few days Rachael was stuck sleeping on the couch until her incision healed more; getting out of bed was too painful. So we spent our evenings watching the Winter Olympics while Levi slept on our chests. In the mornings my mother-in-law would treat us to fresh grapefruit & oatmeal breakfasts and I would grab us Starbucks on the way back from dropping the boys off at school. It was a really nice couple of days… I even finally buckled down and got my Texas Driver’s License! Only took me 3 years to make the effort.

We nicknamed Levi “Popeye” because he would always wink his one eye and make scrunchy faces. In retrospect, I should have thought to tape a little pipe to his pacifier. Dangit! During this time, I discovered that the sound of a crying baby isn’t as horrific sounding as it had been in the past. Milo’s cries would send me into a panic, and Noli’s would just irritate me… I find Levi’s cries on the adorable end of the spectrum. It’s probably because this will be our last kid (assuming all goes according to plan). I’m taking in the infancy more, trying to make it last and enjoy every moment. Sure, I still get frustrated - that’s what babies do to you, but I’m enjoying the ride more… I know I’ll miss it. I still wish I could pull baby Milo out of the photos on my phone and hold him.

If I’m not writing a ton about Levi in this post, it’s because the kid was just so darn chill as a newborn. He didn’t give me much more material than “Awww, how cute”... And he was definitely cute (still is - all my babies are).

While both boys were great with Levi, Noli had gotten increasingly needy. I’m not going to lie, it was downright infuriating sometimes to deal with it. I took him out one day to give him some one on one time, the plan was to buy him a ‘gift from Levi’. I told him Levi gave me money to buy him a toy (kids are so gullible!)... I should have specified how much money Levi actually gave me because $60 later we had a brand new Lego Spiderman play set which took me an hour to build and only 10 seconds for Noli to destroy. 10 glorious seconds of him leaving me alone.

The nightmare was only beginning.

Rachael’s mom had stuck around for a few weeks to help out around the house while we got acclimated to all the changes. The hope was that anything that could have gone wrong would have gone wrong while she was here and we’d have the extra hands… But Murphy’s Law is real, kids. Thanks to the joys of school, Noli came down with the flu a day or two before my mother-in-law was leaving. Just the thing you want around a newborn! And there would be no extra hands. Before we even got home from the hospital, Rach began packing her bags to stay with my folks until our house was no longer contaminated with disgusting little boy germs (Milo was beginning to run a fever as well).

Rachael and Levi staying with my parents didn’t ease my worries, however. The boys are constantly sticking their grubby little fingers all over my face (why their fingers are always moist I’ll never understand). The fingers occasionally go in my mouth because kids are weird and have no boundaries. That mouth is incapable of not being on baby Levi’s face… Because those cheeks. All I could think was that I had given my newborn baby boy the flu and it was an awful feeling. I had shown no signs of having the flu, but it takes a few days before symptoms even start, so everything was up in the air… Just like the flu running rampant in my house. It was a waiting game and I hate waiting.

So it was me, the boys and my mother-in-law, and I only had her help for about two days before she had to go back home. Thank God for moms is all I have to say. She made sure we all took everything we needed, when we needed to take it, and I’m pretty sure she kept me flu-free, because (spoiler) I never caught it and luckily neither did Rach or Levi.

Those few days, however, were difficult for an entirely non-flu-related reason… Needy Noli. By this point he had already been driving me nuts with the constant need for attention, but the flu just made it worse. Today I was looking through the texts Rachael and I were sending each other and every other message was me going out of my mind while Noli stalked me around the house. It was like one of those dreams where you’re being chased by some unknown entity and it always finds you no matter where you hide. You’d think the flu would have destroyed his sense of smell, but somehow it was heightened. There was no escape.

All he wanted was to play legos… Legos which by now were CRAWLING with flu germs. Every click those blocks made when I connected them was like the empty click of a revolver in a deadly game of Russian Roulette. Sitting in that pool of Legos (we have a LOT of Legos) was like swimming in a pool of flu-juice. I swear some of them were wet.

Then my mother-in-law flew home… and it was just me and the flu-zombies.

Thank goodness for my Dad. He took one for the team and later that evening risked his good health to save me from the inevitable misery that awaited me with those kids. The man is fearless. My memory of that week is a little hazy, but I’m 80% sure he arrived via horse. When he got to the house, he told me to get out and enjoy myself for a few while he spent time with the little petri dishes. Even Noli let me leave the house! So I grabbed my iPad and booked it to Starbucks where I spent the next 2 hours sipping Lattes, drawing, and watching videos of Levi that Rach would send me.

The week was no doubt hard - dodging sneezes, dealing with neediness and the usual parenting frustrations… But the hardest part was being away from Levi. I spent 9 months waiting for the little stinker and barely got to know him before he left me for a week. There was a constant stream of videos and photos coming from Rach, but it only made it harder. There was one evening when Rach stopped by with some food and I snuck out to see her. She had Levi in the van and I had to just stare at him from the window (as I was still unsure if I was sick or not). It was torture.

Rach on the other hand was living the good life at Hotel De’Marianelli with my mom. Pampering, baby assistance, hot meals… and a Boxer who quickly became a therapy dog. When Rach arrived at the house that first night, she was a nervous wreck. She started crying when she came in the door and Roxy (the Boxer) ran up to her, put her head on Rachael’s chest and just stared at her. She’d lick the baby’s feet constantly and anytime Levi woke up from a nap crying, Roxy would book it into the room to check on him.

Dogs are the best. Not to speak ill of the dead, but our cat would have just pee’d on the crib.

Fast forwarding ahead, the boys started feeling better, I never got sick, and seeing as my dad’s work was finished, he went back home… I seem to remember him riding off on a chariot of fire. The details are hazy.

One last thing remained… The disinfecting of the Legos.

20% of them ended up down the drain. I hope they never return.

Finally my baby came home. I refused to let him go that night… Or the next night. If I could lactate, Rach would have never gotten him back.

I make good babies. ~ M.

#parenting #parenthood #dad #daddy #daddyblog #newborn #humor #baby #fatherhood #kids

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satorisa · 7 years

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Lift the Veil - Chapter 3

Lift the Veil - Chapter 3: What is a Youth?

Rating: T

Summary: After living in Tokyo for the past six years, she decides to head back to Azumano to escape the big city. However, she now has to face everything that she tried to flee from all those years ago. How exactly will she fare when the pages of a long forgotten book start turning once more?

Read On: FanFiction.Net, Archive of Our Own

Warning: Risa curses twice and this is, somehow, still a SatoRisa fic. Because I need to constantly remind myself that it is.

What Is a Youth?

A rose will bloom. It then will fade…so does a youth.

I found myself sitting on a bench under the cherry blossoms, wholly disconnected from the hubbub surrounding me. With my diploma resting on my lap, I watched my peers say their farewells at this branching point towards our own futures.

Later that day, I had a one-way train ticket to Tokyo without the comforting presence of family and friends. I already had my living arrangement and furnishing set up in advance, so all I had to bring were suitcases stuffed with clothes and other miscellaneous necessities.

Behind a crowd of crying girls, I spotted the Niwa family laughing and chatting with my parents as they watched Riku and Daisuke interact in their little microcosm. Hiwatari stood in the midst of the elderly fray, with his light-blue hair standing out amongst the peppered-blacks and varying shades of red and brown, looking upon the blushing duo with that serious expression of his. He then stared through me—not at me, through me—before returning to the scene in front of him.

If the last month didn’t unravel as horribly as it did, I would’ve been with the group, most likely standing next Hiwatari and still living in blissful denial. But reality ruined that ignorance, leaving me in that same, pathetic state I was after Dark disappeared four years ago.

Knowing that my parents and their company would stay under the cherry blossoms a little longer before heading out to eat somewhere, I left, disgusted with the happiness that unfolded before me. Once home, I turned off my phone and grabbed my luggage before marching towards the train station, finally escaping this stifling town.

I walked into the police station the next morning, greeted by Hiwatari and Saehara chatting about…society’s odd fascination with romance, and the difficult quest to find our soulmates and other halves? Seeing me enter, Saehara shot up a hand in greeting. Hiwatari, on the other hand, grabbed his coffee and slightly bowed to me before disappearing into his office

“What’s in the tote?” Saehara asked, eyeing the bag hanging off the crook of my arm.

“Patience, my young grasshopper.”

He frowned, leaving his spot to roam around the station. I grabbed a protein shake out of my bag, sipping on it as I read through the stories for today’s broadcasts.

The morning went by quickly, characterized by Saehara’s coming and going with food, drinks, or his trusty steno pad. Sometimes, Hiwatari would emerge from his burrow, passing by with his trademark expression before slinking back to his office looking slightly fatigued and irritated. The lengthy social interactions he had with his force probably bogged him down. Pair that with Saehara’s constant pestering, and the Commissioner, who needed alone time to recover his energy just as much as he needed caffeine to ward off his chronic migraines, had more than enough stress piling on his already overflowing plate.

After spending so many hours studying with Hiwatari as he worked on his case reports, I became acquainted with his habits fairly quickly.

When lunch came around, and Saehara returned with a renewed interest in my tote bag, I pulled out a bento and handed it to him. “In thanks for yesterday,” I said, opening the lid to my own.

“Harada-imouto, I don’t want to die prematurely.”

“You wound me, Saehara. I’ve become a pretty good cook after living alone for a couple of years.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He took a bite, slowly nodding his head. “Not as delicious as my honey’s, but it’s better that anything you could’ve ever attempted in high school.”

“Thanks for the biased compliment,” I muttered, eliciting a laugh from him.

We talked about Akane, saying that I had to try her food at least once in my life. He called her up right there, luckily during her lunch break, and he promised me a homemade bento courtesy of his lovely honey tomorrow. Once Saehara finished his bento, he jumped up from the sofa and rushed over to Hiwatari’s office to squeeze whatever stories he could.

I returned to my laptop, passing the afternoon by skimming through stories and snacking. Eventually, Saehara left for the day and I, deciding not to risk having another encounter with Hiwatari, packed up and followed suit.

The cool evening, accompanied by a light breeze, was a nice change from the stuffy, air-conditioned inside of the police station. The setting sun dyed everything around me a subtle orange, and the tension I had unconsciously bottled up slowly dissipated with each passing step.

When I reached the news station, I expected the pre-broadcast rush that stressed me out so much back at NHK. However, the station still held the lazy atmosphere from yesterday morning even with the encroaching deadline.

I settled into my cubicle, half-focused on my work and half-listening to my coworkers whispering about me. Some of them wondered why someone as accomplished as me would work in some uneventful small town on Hokkaido’s northern shores. Others wondered if a pretty lady like me really was as “accomplished” as I claimed to be or why I exerted so much effort into such menial work.

Back in Tokyo, it took me a while to overcome by shock at how shamelessly ruthless people could be in front of the people they were gossiping about. After leaving my sheltered life in Azumano, reality slapped me until I could no longer feel my face and, as a result, I had to whip myself into shape just to cope with the cruelty of the competitive, working world.

Once I finished, stretching my legs and arms after another productive day, Riku texted me saying that we had company over for dinner. I wished she told me who exactly they were so I could present myself accordingly, but I decided not to ruin the evening-after-work and bought a small cake from a bakery on the way home. If no one dug into it, I would just have more to enjoy whenever I had a sleepless night or wanted to gorge on sweets to brighten up my day.

After work shaped my life into a relatively monotonous routine, I finally came to appreciate the small things here and there.

When I got home, I headed towards the kitchen, seeing Daisuke talking to Riku with flutes of white wine in their hands. Next to them, unfortunately, stood Hiwatari, current bane of my existence, shuffling around with his hands in his pockets.

The appetite I worked up on the way home, especially after forcing myself to refrain from buying some freshly-baked bread, disappeared, and I could feel the fatigue from the long workday settle in too quickly for my tastes. All I had to do was place the cake in fridge. After that, I could excuse myself by saying that I wasn’t feeling well, avoiding the added stress from interacting with Hiwatari and getting some well-deserved rest.

“Hey, Risa,” Daisuke greeted. “How was work?”

“Tiring,” I briefly replied, leaving the bag of empty bento boxes next to the sink before putting the cake in the fridge. “What about you? How’s work at the museum?”

“Interesting.” He laughed. “It reminds me of the good old days.”

“Ready for dinner?” Riku asked.

“Not really,” I told her. “I’m not feeling well, so I was planning on getting some rest. I’ll probably eat later.”

“And miss the lovely meal I prepared for you with wine? And your dessert with tea?”

“At least eat a little to put something in your stomach,” Hiwatari advised with his lips pursed in concern.

“I’m fine,” I grumbled harshly, leaving the trio in the kitchen.

Slamming my bedroom door closed, I collapsed on my bed, blankly staring at the photos plastered on my way, illuminated by the slivers of streetlight filtering through the lights.

Damn bastard.

I spent the past couple of hours in the dark, browsing available apartments near work. They were relatively cheap and not too far from both the news and police stations, but their layouts were boring, and I could care less about the view of rectangular, concrete buildings. I wanted a nice place, maybe close to that café, with a wonderful view of the ocean and the sunlight constantly filtering in throughout the day. It’d be worth the commute to work, but the price…

I heard a knock on my door and before I could even react, it swung open. My body tensed up, afraid that Hiwatari would come in, but the lights turned on, and Riku stood at the doorway holding a tray of food.

“You’re going to go blind doing that,” she scolded.

I shrugged. “Didn’t stop me throughout college.”

She placed the tray in front of me, playfully shoving me before sitting down on my bed. “What were you doing?”

“Looking for apartments to move into ASAP.”

Riku gasped. “I didn’t realize you hated me that much!”

I laughed before eating a forkful of her lemon-buttered fish complemented with a squash medley. Basking in my sister’s cooking, I downed the bite with some white wine, feeling my energy slowly coming back to me.

“I don’t know. I guess I feel out of place living here.”

“How could you?”

I shook my head. “You wouldn’t understand since you spent college with Daisuke practically by your side. And Hiwatari-san, Mom, and Dad were less than an hour away.”

Riku raised an eyebrow, slowly leaning towards me with a mischievous smile. Shit, what’s she going to ask me about?

“Hiwatari-san? What happened to those nicknames you guys called each other? What were they again…oh yeah! S—”

“Don’t you dare!” I interrupted, lightly slapping her shoulder for bringing that up. She grinned. “But you’ve just make my point: things have changed since I left.”

“Of course they have! Did you think everything would be the same when you’ve been gone for six years?”

“Of course not! I’m not that dumb.” I pouted from Riku’s lack of faith in me, but she just laughed. I waited for the jovial mood to die down before continuing, staring at my hands that lightly grasped the silverware. “But I can’t stay in this house, in this room: it’s dysphoric. It feels like I’ve come back to that life I shed when I headed off to college, picking up exactly where I left off. God, Riku, it’s sickening.”

I finished my food in silence, not bothering to stare at Riku. I didn’t want to see the pity on her face or the pain from trying to understand a sister that had literally dropped off the face of her world six years ago without even a simple goodbye. The photos in my room haunted me with happy memories that only worsened my return; it was a stark reminder of what I no longer had.

“Is this why you left for Tokyo as soon as you could?” she asked, with an uncanny shakiness in her tone. “So that you could run away from that life?

“Sure. We can go with that.”

“Risa, what exactly happened during that last month of school? You— ”

“Please, let’s keep the past in the past, okay?”

It was hypocritical for me to say that considering the past still had me in its vice grip to this day, but I couldn’t bear to talk to Riku about it. I looked at her, remembering that this was the exact same expression she had when she found me in the shower, curled up in fetal position while trying to wail the pain away. If she kept that on her face for any longer, I knew I would’ve started crying. Riku looked like she was on the verge of tears too and, somehow pulling through for both of us, shot me a smile before rubbing my arm in comfort.

“Well, whenever you want to tackle that past, remember that you don’t have to do it alone, okay? We’re all here for you.” She hugged me before leaving my room with my empty tray.

Feeling a tug at my heart, I knew that she was crying downstairs. Just the image of her, with tears silently running down her face while washing the dishes, hurt so much. Despite the six years away from Azumano, I found solace in knowing that not much has changed between me and Riku, but that familiarity was too weak to keep me sane in this mansion.

Trying to get my mind off that and keep the creeping sadness at bay, I returned to my phone, browsing to find what would be my new home.

2 AM.

I had work in a couple of hours, yet I found myself wide awake. I even tried reading some tanka, trying to calm my mind with the succinct poems filled with descriptions of nature that lent to their usually romantic tone but even that didn’t work.

Leaving my room, I headed to the kitchen in hopes of leftover cake in the fridge. Not that I should be snacking this late/early, but maybe the cold dessert could lull me into lethargy.

Back in high school, while I struggled to study for tests or entrance exams through the dead hours of night, I always found myself on the kitchen floor, snacking while I stayed on the phone. I would weave in and out of periods of conversational chatter and silence accompanied by the background noise of my study music playlist of instrumental music that somehow helped me stay awake instead of putting me to sleep.

Sometimes, Riku would find me in the morning, cradling my phone in the middle of a mess of snacks and paper. Other times, usually on weekends, my parents would find me at the dining table, pulling an all-nighter after spending so much time chatting with the person on the other end of the line. They thought I was crazy; looking back on it now, I regretted the amount of sleep I sacrificed for something so pointless, but I was a stupid teenager who didn’t know any better.

Six years later, I still think that I really didn’t know any better coming back here.

Opening the fridge, I saw a slice of cake cradled in its bubble of saran wrap and settled onto the dining table ready to dig in. After one spoonful, I was convinced that this was a worthwhile decision.

For a second, I imagined it: eating my cake at 2 AM with three other conspirers, sneaking out of our respective rooms to chat the night away. My parents let Hiwatari and Daisuke sleep here, but rules were rules, and after lights out, the boys and girls were to retreat into their own rooms. Yet, being young and rebellious, we’d wreck quiet havoc in the wee hours of the night.

Finishing my cake, and knowing that there was no way I would be able to get back to sleep, I cleaned up after myself, sat on the floor, and turned on that same study playlist, daydreaming the night away until the sun peaked over the clouds, greeting me with a good morning.

#dnangel #satorisa #satoshi hiwatari #risa harada #lift the veil #my writing #fanfiction #uh...it's an alright chapter #you got your daily dose of saehara #some quiet risa time at the end #all the tellings of a satorisa fic #because seriously most of them involve some type of melodrama and angst #and it only gets worse from here #and editing it is getting worse from here too #;;

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