Ok…so B and I have successfully sustained another life for two weeks and one day. So far…not too bad. I love love love my sleep and that has probably been one of the biggest adjustments I’ve had to make. Getting accustomed to being “rudely” awakened by a 7 lb pip squeak definitely takes some getting used to. Too bad they don’t sell “baby Ambien”…I’m pretty sure whatever drug company decides to market this would make a killing!
Yesterday, B’s parents left, B went back to work, and I had to venture to the pediatrician all by myself with E. It went very well (although I stare at the clock hoping she doesn’t wake up to be fed before I am in the comfort of my own home). She now weighs 7 lbs 3 oz and did really well when they pricked her foot for blood (no crying yay!…wish I could say the same for me). This poor little girl, laying on a cold exam table, just looking around, no clue that some scary nurse is going to stick a needle in her foot and extract, what seemed like a gallon, of blood from her little tiny foot. Ok, it wasn’t really a gallon but to me it certainly seemed like it.
Today, B left for work and while I was changing my millionth diaper of the very new day, E decided to spit up all over the place (it even came out of her nose). The facial expression afterwards was “should I cry or just leave this stunned looked on my face”. I wish I had my camera, it was priceless. So it was my turn to give her a bath. B is the ultimate bath giver in the house so I am relatively new to the experience and I can tell you she really didn’t like mom doing the dirty work. She never cries with dad but I;m pretty sure someone was going to call CYS on me if I didn’t extract her from the (what you would think was scalding) tepid water.
Ahh. The ultimate joy. I think I’ve resigned from bath duty and will stick with dirty diapers.
2 weeks. 1 day.
