Mama's Girl

She's a mama's girl. For now. I'm enjoying every second of it while I can.

She looks a lot like her dad.

She's discovered her feet and tongue.

She watches tv sometimes.

At night, she sleeps about six hours, eats, then sleeps another two to four hours before eating again.

She is 2 months & 3 days (or 9 weeks & 1 day) today. She weighs 12lbs 9oz, and is 25" long.

This face is kind of her signature look, which she got from me.

What is this gibberish you speak? You know I'm a person and not a puppy, right?

She's totally into being sung to, and if you're lucky, she'll try to sing along. She's curious about the cat, but hasn't yet tried to investigate. She has this new thing where she gets bored, which is highly inconvenient since she still doesn't care about toys. I'm suspicious that she is frustrated that she can't walk yet. I mean... She's two months old. She shouldn't want to walk already. But she's also figured out how to fake a cough. Babies are full of surprises.

I officially wore her out after a week of constantly going places and seeing people and being passed around and loved on. She told me, in her own words, that she simply had enough and just wanted to go home. We got home, and she promptly took a 4-hour nap that didn't disrupt her sleep pattern that night at all.

So, babies are different than puppies after all. Note to self: Your daughter does not share your Sagittarian qualities.

But man, she's cute.

And she drools a lot now. Cute and slobbery, like a puppy.

And this is why you shouldn't go to sleep angry.

6 Weeks

I'm in bed. I've just coaxed Maya to sleep, and honestly, I'm a little afraid to get up and go pee, even though I really want to, for fear that I'll wake her up. She never cries for no reason, and tonight, the reason is tiredness. Seems like a pretty straightforward solution, to just go to sleep, but not without first letting mama and daddy know how much she hates being tired. Well, me too, little lady, but I love going to sleep! Let's do it together! SLEEP PARTY!

She is officially six weeks old, as of Sunday the 5th. More significantly, it has been six weeks since I had a baby. Six weeks of healing. Of adjusting. Of pelvic rest and ignoring chores and being lazy because I'm tired and I'm tired and also I'm tired. I gave myself the full six weeks - it would be my window, my milestone for how long I'll let whatever I was doing just be enough.

But after... that is when this thing gets real. I needed time to just be for a second, but I also had to give that time a limit. I know me. I'd totally run with it and end up either giving myself no time at all and burning out before things even got real OR becoming a total sloth and watching TV forever while the dishes and the laundry team up to conquer the house.

I used to panic when she slept. I didn't know what to do first. Sleep? Watch TV? Eat? Shower? Clean? It was like I had few precious moments to do whatever I wanted and all I could think about was how angry I was that I was forced to choose between keeping myself alive and keeping myself clean. What kind of a world is that? Now, it's not as scary when deciding what to do with myself when she sleeps. (Though I am still rejecting this whole sleep-or-shower scenario.) Life is getting easier. More normal, if such a thing exists.

I'm excited about living life in my new role. I'm excited about having actual standards again, standards that involve the gym and a semi-clean house and, if we're super lucky, laundry that is not only clean but folded.

But whoa. Let's not get too crazy too fast.