Hazy blur...

I'm here.  I'm alive.  But I can't tell you anything that's happened in these last 3 months.  Everything has changed.  Our house, our routines...our SLEEP.  We're both tired.  And Miles doesn't even wake up that much.  I just wake up and anticipate him waking so I sit there awake, waiting.  And nothing happens.  He finally woke up at 4am today to eat.  But I'd been awake at 1:16am, 2:30am and 3:35am.  I'm getting a big ol' latte soon.

The post-partum period was weird.  I'll be honest.  I wasn't immediately in love with the baby the second they placed him on my chest.  That probably sounds horrible.  I felt horrible.  I wanted to have that rush of emotion that everyone talks about.  Instead I was suddenly in charge of this little creature that was all take and no give.  I mourned for my old life.  I don't handle change well and duuuhh, having a baby is a big change.  I may not have handled it with a lot of grace.

I've never resented my baby.  Even when he was 3 weeks old and waking every hour, I didn't get mad at him.  He was (is) tiny and helpless.  But they aren't joking when they say that even finding time to pee is challenging.  Matt and I ate dinner in shifts.  Eventually started taking shifts at night.  I'd planned on doing all the night feedings while I was on leave.  That only lasted a few nights before I was desperate for help.  And sleep.  So Matt would take first shift and let me get a few hours of sleep. 

Now, Miles sleeps in his crib.  He has since we moved into the new house.  And I, of course, totally obsessed about how awful the transition from his Rock n Play was going to be.  But the first night I put him in there, he just slept.  I'm really good at hypothesizing about how bad something will be only to have it turn out perfectly fine. 

Miles is tiny and smiley.  He was only in the 20th percentile, weight-wise, at his last appointment.  He's 14 weeks old and barely out of newborn clothes.  He smiles all day long unless you hold up a camera to take his picture.  Then you get an infant version of Resting Bitch Face.

He'll lay in his crib and just "talk."  Squeal and chirp and coo.  It's cute for about 5 minutes, but at 3am, it gets pretty not cute.  But when I go in his room and he's SO happy to see me...I can't be annoyed.  I turn into a puddle.

He started laughing on Oct 12.  Two days shy of 3 months.  He loves to chew on his hands.  And kick his little baby legs.  He'll hold his squeaky penguin if I hand it to him.  I'll pull him into a sitting position and his face lights up.  He seriously thinks he's doing it on his own.  And pretty soon, he will.  That is the strongest tiny baby. 

He smiles biggest for his daddy and I can't even be jealous.  It's so stinkin' adorable.