A moment to breath

 

Could it be that I actually have half a moment to write a blog? I think so!

It doesn't really matter what I write about at this point. Just getting my hot little hands on this keyboard and typing away gives me a thrill like a 40 year old woman back on the dance floor of her favorite club. She can't dance modern but she bustin' a move the best she can. And so will I.

The past two weeks have been full of diapers and crying and feeding. With the blessing of a new baby comes the challenge of the first three months. For those who may have forgotten (as I did when I decided to have another), the baby is as helpless as a piece of celery and about as limp. Their little head is not only screwed on loose at this point but about the softest melon one could find at the grocery store.
This leaves a parent like myself on constant head holding duty. Not to mention those spagetti arms they got going. Yes all limp from the hips up but those legs have had some time to kick and show some strength at this point. They just have no ability to dress into pants when I'm trying to put them on him. Their like a pair of roman candle fireworks going off. Pant legs couldn't be easier with all those buttons down the legs but not for a infant. No sir-ee! They're flailing all over the place like its the fourth of July.

And as for breast feeding. ... No one told me it took up to an hour to feed. My babe is adorable and as slow as molasses in February in the eating department. What happened to the thought that this was going to be nurturing? I'd say more like tiring. 

At the end of the day I look at this floppy little man and love his little toes and fingers and little chicken legs. I think his hair is so soft and almost am sad to think that his wee scowl that scrunches his nose up will soon disapear and be replaced, thankfully with  cute chubby facial features.