Slowly Emerging

We've been in this bizarro world of newborn time for 12 days now...  It's amazing how things that used to take 10 minutes (like getting out the door) now take 30 minutes.  (We're those ridiculous people loaded down with 50 tons of stuff at the store.  It's hard to keep a newborn warm.)  Entire days (and nights) go by in a blur of diapers, nursing, ham and turkey and present opening and sugar.  I've lost all track of what day it is today, and what I'm supposed to be doing other than treading water.

It's wonderful.

Jack is SUCH a great baby.  He is nursing like a champ, and he's content and snuggly and just awesome.  He smiles, sometimes, and it melts my heart.  I know it's not a "true" smile, but it's true enough for me.  I call him "Mister Baby."  Switching to male pronouns after five and a half years of "she," "her," and "the girls" is kind of hard. 

His head smells so good.

I've managed to keep up with thank you notes - which is insane because all of our friends and relatives are still waiting on them from when Claire was born.  I'm keeping up with the laundry.  The kitchen is clean.  We have enough festive holiday leftovers to keep us fed for another week.  Ham keeps for ten days, did you know that? 

We survived Claire's stomach virus by quarantining Jack and me in the bedroom.  It was hard to not snuggle Claire through the worst of her sickness, but her daddy took very good care of her.  Jack and I didn't get sick, thank goodness.

My favorite sling is now too big, so I need to figure out what we're going to do about that.  I tried to buy a stroller today at Sears, but no one was at work at Sears today, and the few people who were there didn't want my money.  Next task on the computer is to write a strongly worded letter to Sears corporate about their completely shitty customer service.  I ended up deciding (after 30 minutes of waiting for someone to help me, and no help arriving) that I'd rather chew off my feet than buy a stroller at Sears. I was literally standing in the infant/toddler section yelling "DOES ANYONE WORK HERE?  I WOULD LIKE TO SPEND SOME MONEY!"  No one came.  I took a pair of jeans and waved them past the exterior door, hoping to set off a security alarm which would summon someone.  No alarm went off.  I called the store FOUR times from my phone and tried four different departments to locate someone with a pulse - no luck.  It was absurd.  I felt like I was on candid camera.  I almost stole the stroller...  I figured I could take it and no one would notice, then I could just mail them a check.  In the end, though, I figured Amazon.com was less likely to get me arrested.

Well, this wasn't supposed to be a rant about Sears, but I'm feeling a little too tired for anything but stream-of-consciousness, so that's just what this will be today.

I actually managed to send Christmas cards/birth announcements this year!  I KNOW!  That picture up there was my favorite of the ones I used on the card.  He flipped his tiny lid right after it was taken, so it's a good thing we got one good shot.

The bruising on Jack's face is almost gone.  He looks much less like a boxer and much more like a baby. 

I'm having some of those horrid thoughts that I've had before, but whether it's due to Dr. Dave's good influence, the Zoloft, or both I'm able to ignore them or laugh them off most of the time.  This time I know that it doesn't mean that I'm going to do anything to hurt anyone.  This time I know that it doesn't mean I'm a rotten mother.  It's just a broken wire in my head.  Maybe it's how my brain deals with being completely responsible for another human being.  Maybe everyone has these thoughts - BJ says it's like when you're up really high and you think, "Just a step to one side and I'm a goner," even though you have no intention of taking that step.  It's comforting that he's had horrid thoughts too, and that he's able to blow them off.  It makes me feel less nuts.  It's comforting to be able to look at MG and C and say, "See, they're fine!"  I didn't have that comfort when MG was a baby and I went through this.  I may not be at the optimum level of anxiety, on a ten point scale I'd rate myself at a 6, maybe 6.5, but it's far better than the 8 or 9 level I was at before he was born.  Dr. Dave says that 4 is optimal.  I'll get there when I've had some sleep.