Baby Bliss
Z
oe is a week old, and I am enjoying the honeymoon period. She sleeps easily, nurses easily, and her primary complaint is getting hiccups 10 times a day. Fierce and I change her outfit far more often than is necessary, since we know she’ll only fit into these tiny clothes for a few weeks and we enjoy seeing how everything looks. We still haven’t gone through all of them, despite having three changes a day for nine days.
Wolfie is doing well, but is testing his boundaries. We’re dealing with more defiance, some outright, some subtle. However, today was a day where he turned a corner and was sweet with me for the first time since the baby was born. He got on my (recently vacated) lap and asked me to pull my blanket over his legs. He laid on top of me for a few minutes and soaked in his mama time. I remembered for the first time in a week how lovable he really is. Between the hormones and odd sleep schedule, I’ve had little patience for his misbehavior and have relegated all parenting to Fierce. It was good to enjoy his company again.
Wolfie seems to have internalized the Christmas story in an unexpected way. I gave him a stack of not-my-style Christmas cards that I received as premiums from charities, and he pulled out one with a picture of the Holy Family. “Do you remember when I was a baby–I had no home? I lived in a manger? And Mary was my mother? And I was Baby Jesus?” Oh yes, that was my favorite part of your childhood! I can’t wait to tell his preschool teachers that not only did he 100% absorb their lesson on the shepherds and the sheep, but he has developed a second personality that goes by the name of Baby Jesus.
I finished Christmas shopping today, and now just have to wait for those blessed packages to arrive from Amazon and the Gap. We managed to spend about $215 on 20 people, none of whom are receiving thoughtless gifts. When the gifts arrive, Wolfie will draw on butcher block paper with his green and red crayons, and we will use it to wrap the gifts. This is one of the first times where I feel that each gift I’m giving is something that will be appreciated by the recipient, except for my mother of course. Unless I give her a big tome of all the genealogy information she still needs, which is the only single-minded passion she has, every gift will be met with, “Don’t waste your money on me.” It’s tempting to grab back gifts gleefully and go, “Great! I won’t. Now I can get my $15 back instead of letting it go to waste!”
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