So our dear sweet baby boy is 2 months today. I can’t believe it- it seems both longer and shorter. I guess that’s what happens to time when it’s suddenly chopped up by feeding and crying and changing a small person, it starts to ebb and flow in its own type of rhythm.
How did we celebrate this momentous occasion? Well alas Mike is away once again on business – 3 weeks in a row of him gone for 3 days – so he didn’t get to do anything special. And me, well, I got to hold a sleeping baby in my arms for 2 hrs, which was pretty damn special indeed.
When we started this whole adventure everyone said to really enjoy these beginning days. Before he was out, I thought ‘of course, what else would we do?’ Lo and behold the first month came and went and I really didn’t feel so much enjoyment. I felt tired, bone-dead-walking-zombie-tired, I felt harassed, I felt like my life had suddenly imploded, but I didn’t really feel too much enjoyment. Tiny moments, maybe, but I wasn’t basking in it.
Around week 6 something started to change- somehow he got to be more understandable, more predictable and we started to get our rhythm. I did start to enjoy it more, but there was always this feeling that the minute he was asleep or happy I should jump up and do laundry or sweep the floor or pick up one of the 200 spit up clothes that were strewn about the apartment. Still, an over-all absence of basking.
Now, at week ~ 9, I’ve stopped and thought, what am I doing? Why am I not basking. Like everyone tells you, they grow up so fast. He’s already changed so much I don’t even dare to predict what he’ll be like in another 9 weeks. He smiles at me, he giggles at his playmat, he makes funny noises, he tries to talk back when I say hi. He wants alone time, he wants snuggle time, and he’s getting better at communicating it and we’re getting better at understanding it.
So today, when he fell asleep in my arms as a small cooing warm bundle of cuteness I thought: you know what, screw the chores. So the dishes aren’t done, so there are more spit up clothes around the place than one should really have, and no laundry was done. But I got to hold my baby boy in my arms, giving us both exactly what we wanted and I got to just love him for 2 hours straight which made both of us incredibly happy. What could be better than that?
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