We have been blessed with a happy, sweet, content baby. Ninety-nine percent of the time. (The remaining 1 percent is deducted for regular baby-type crying and wacky scheduling matters that drive Mommy and Daddy crazy.) What a relief. We’re nearly two months in now and I still marvel at this beautiful boy. Even at times like this one, when I am super exhausted and just spent many, many hours trying to coax myself to sleep…
There is this little mercurial creature hanging around my house and we don’t speak each other’s language but we’re learning. My emotions twist and turn with every involuntary grimace on his face. I am his huckleberry. The hardwiring is intense. I get caught up in the brutal cycle of wondering if I’m doing an OK job and asking myself, “Is my baby happy?” The latter is a crazy question. What does that even mean —…
I finally relented on giving the boy a rubdown once the sweet newborn smell of his head gave way to the mundane smell of sweaty hair. I propped up the baby book and made sure we did things as Dr. Sears said to do them. I know, I know. This is also how I cook, even when I’m cooking Hamburger Helper. I’m neurotic. Holden was not too keen on the experience, but he smells a…
In one week I have gone from being a childfree entity to being someone who can make a peanut butter sandwich with one hand (try it — it ain’t easy). It has been a whirlwind week of disposable diapers and puzzled expressions and gushy coos and sweet kisses on sweet dark-haired heads. I have had a few moments here and there where I wasn’t quite sure what I had gotten myself into, but those always…
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