Mornings

The cutie has turned me into a morning person.

He has a fairly predictable nighttime schedule (though now that I've said that, he will probably deviate from it tonight): He goes to sleep some time between 10 and 11 pm; wakes up for a feeding around 2-3 am, for a second feeding 5-6 am, and then up for the day 8-9 am.

I used to go back to bed after the 5-6 am feed, to get a couple more precious hours of sleep, but lately I've been finding myself getting up, so that I can take a shower, eat breakfast, surf the web, and have (whispered) conversations with my sweetie that do not focus on the baby and his bodily functions. It's ridiculously luxurious.

I'm not the only one who enjoys my sweetie's company: I am slowly developing the theory that our cutie likes his dad more than me. Yesterday, and last Monday, he cried all afternoon, which at this point is somewhat unusual for him. Then my sweetie came home, and the moment he walked in the door, the baby stopped crying. It's enough to give a mom a complex. SIGH.

Anyway, here are some pics of our cutie, looking ever cuter:

"Let go o' ny liff! Let go o' ny liff!"

The requisite "naked baby" picture--he'd have been fully naked, but he started peeing when I was taking the picture :-)

Definitely smiling! (Note shirt with wishful-thinking printing.)

And finally, a shot of our cutie wearing a one-piece I knit for him, out of Debbie Bliss Cashmerino Aran. I'm pretty proud of it, since I made up the pattern myself. The closures on the front and at the crotch are closed with sewn-on snap tape (a first for me, since I think knitting and sewing do not mix well; I did cheat and sew it on by hand: no running the knitting through the sewing machine for me!). And I actually managed to finish it before he was too big for it; quite a feat when you have a baby and cannot knit one-handed.

Of course, I've heard many stories of kids who refuse to wear hand knits. The cool stuff is bought in a store. So I thought I would get in a few hand knits while he is still too young to protest.

Obviously I was wrong about the protesting bit :-).

Quick post while the baby's napping

Believe it or not, he's napping. In his bassinet. He's been doing this for about four days. Each nap lasts about 1/2 an hour, and I treasure every minute of free arms.

Anyway, I've been reading a lot, usually while feeding him, but I've been rereading children's books from my youth. I guess I haven't had a lot of mental energy, and rereading children's books requires very little effort. Plus, you know, I only get to read in ten-minute increments, which is not at all my preferred method of reading, so it's good when I already know what's going to happen. I've reread a number of Anne of Green Gables books (though not ANNE OF GREEN GABLES, which is actually my least favorite of the series), I've reread A LITTLE PRINCESS and THE SECRET GARDEN (finally figured out why I always liked the latter less than the former: it's because I really don't like and don't care about Colin, and his story hijacks the book).

However, this week I read a new book, HOLES, by Louis Sachar, which will probably become a classic children's book itself. I will certainly buy a copy for my son when he's old enough. I really, really liked it. And, I have to say, it made me appreciate anew that children's books are tough to write. I know every celebrity is doing it, but you know what? HOLES is as interesting, well-written, and complex, both stylistically and character-wise, as many adult books. It surprised me. I'm still thinking about it.

Whoops, there he goes; my 1/2 hour is up!

Halloween

Our cutie's first Halloween was a success:

OK, he didn't care, but we enjoyed ourselves :-).

Today he had his one-month appointment with the doctor. He is now 10 lbs, 6 oz. He also shocked all of us (including the doctor) by rolling over during the appointment. The doctor had him lying on his stomach on the examining table, she was commenting on how strong he is (he can lift his head and hold it up for quite a while), when all of a sudden, he just rolled himself right over onto his back. He may not do it again for a month or two, but we were pretty darned impressed, and convinced we have the smartest, strongest baby ever born :-).

Now if only he would sleep.

One month old

It's a disgusting mess we come through to be born, the sticky-wet of blood and afterbirth, mother wailing, child crying...the helpless soft spot at the top of its head pulsing, waiting to be kissed. Our parents and teachers say it's a miracle, but it's not. It's going to happen no matter what, there's no choice in the matter. To my mind, a miracle is something that could go one way or another. The fact that something happens, when by all rights it shouldn't, is what makes us take notice, it's what saints are made of, it takes the breath away. How a mother comes to love her child, her caring for this thing that's made her heavy, lopsided and slow, this thing that made her wish she were dead...that's the miracle.
--From The Birth House, by Ami McKay

I haven't finished reading The Birth House, and at the rate I'm going, I probably never will (I started it while I was still pregnant, and I'm on page 25), but this passage struck me really hard while I was waiting...and waiting...and waiting for him to come. It's resonated even more as our cutie hits one month old, and has spent the last week crying all night. Either my sweetie or I has threatened to throw him out the window at least once, if not multiple times, every night for the last week, usually at 2 or 3 in the morning, after he's been crying for hours and refusing to be put down. Yet morning comes and he's still with us, and we still think he's awfully cute and lovable. We're idiots, but that's probably hard-wired, hunh? It's got to be, or I think the human race would have died out long ago. So I guess it's not a miracle: we're slaves to our genetic compulsion to Not Kill the Baby.

By all reports (from friends who are already parents and laugh at our difficulties) it's going to be months yet before this stops. Last night we actually broke down and brought him into our bed with us, but this only worked for a short while; once he woke up, he couldn't be soothed even in bed. I ended up having to sleep with him in the recliner. Forget the bassinet--even if he's put down asleep, within half an hour (usually within ten minutes), he's awake and crying. I can take this during the day, but at night it's really, really trying. We were spoiled by three and a half weeks of relatively good sleep--he'd go down for a couple three- or four-hour blocks per night--so being up all night now is especially difficult in comparison.

I confess I have occasionally thought that the only thing stopping me from giving him up for adoption is that the grandparents already know about him, so it would be difficult to explain.