shokufeh is…home

Dear MrMan,
Today, you are six weeks old. Is it as hard for you to believe as it is for me? As your great aunt would say, “Can you imagination?”
I continue to marvel at you. Your absolute perfection (complete with cradle cap and baby acne). That I helped create you. That I carried you for nine-plus months. That you’re more than parts of me and parts of your dad put together. That you’re you, with your own personality. Because you’re such your own little person, sometimes I forget how young you are. But then I hit my forehead and rush to get a blanket to swaddle you, because you are still calmed by such things, despite being fiercely independent. In a dependent kind of way.
You continue to educate me and your father in your ways. You’ve recently become more interactive, sometimes smiling at things we do, like kissing you to pieces. You coo on the phone.
You’ve also developed a recent interest in whistling. This is just another example of your seeming like of music. The hand bells seemed to be your favorite part of your first church experience, last weekend. You handled that whole outing quite well, by the way.
Your other, continued, interests include:

I watch you connect with prayers when I say them aloud. It’s amazing how calm you become and your eyes grow wide as you hear the words of God. I guess eyes really are the windows to the soul.
You’re good at working your way into our bed, usually with some sob story of how congested you are Mind you, it’s from the cosleeper right next to me. But I guess we can offer you a more upright position. And nuzzling, of course.
In the past week, you’ve become a little more comfortable at spending moments alone. I can actually leave the room for a few minutes without your becoming agitated. My bladder welcomes this. As does my stomach. Your maturation is also apparent in your increasing comfort with sleeping on your back. Yes, it’s true: despite my profession, I put you down on your stomach, if you’ve fallen asleep with your weight in that direction. It just reduces your likelihood of startling awake. And you now actually have the strength to lift your neck enough to change your head position while on your stomach. But, as I said, you’re doing better with the back thing. I guess the curled-up position of the womb is becoming a more distant memory.
In addition to seeing your changes, I’m seeing the changes in myself, as a result of having you in my life:

My love, I teeter on the brink of wanting you to stay just as you are, and feeling like I can’t wait to meet the person you become (and see what your eye color – which even the pediatrician, who’s seen tons of baby eyes, deemed interesting – settles on). Luckily, it’s out of my hands and you’re progressing just as you’re supposed to.
Love,
Mommy

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Today, I showered. Third day in a row. Like I said, progress.

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I guess the first sign of progress is that I’m posting within a week of my last entry. Shocking! MrMan is asleep, without my holding him. We’ll see how long it lasts. Oh, how he fights the sleep in the daytime.

We did make it out of the house last Friday, just not in time to meet my coworkers, as was originally intended. But, the car started a hour or so later. So, we went to the mall. Had to have a little nursing session when we got there, to calm MrMan from the trauma of the ride. After that, he slept through my errands, picking Sam up from work, even dinner out. The latter was particularly impressive, since some carolers came through and were singing quite loudly and ringing bells. Oh, how I wanted them to move on. Not enough to act like another restaurant patron, who got up and yelled at them that not everyone celebrates Christmas….

Since Friday, MrMan and I have had additional adventures, some at home, some out. Of course, now he is awake and I’m confirming that my one-handed typing skills are lacking. So I will end with a high-five to MrMan and my boobs. The three of us, or I guess four of us, make a great team – at yesterday’s pediatrician appointment we found out that MrMan gained two pounds in the past three weeks. Go team! (Sorry, arms….)

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MrMan and I were all set to go on our first outing – just the two of us. He was fed and had napped enough to prevent grumpiness, but not enough that he’d cry in the car. Sam had dropped the car off at home earlier. MrMan and I were both clean and dressed, I in real clothes, he in a fresh diaper and onesie. I had the diaper bag packed, complete with a spare outfit for him and bags to throw his dirty diapers in, if the situation warranted. I carried him in my arms in the elevator and while turning on the car enough to roll down the windows. I used my other hand to fold up the stroller and to place his car seat in the car, all to reduce his waiting (and sweating… it’s still hot here, and the car AC has died). Not that he seemed to mind, since he’d fallen back to sleep. All the planets seemed aligned. I put him carefully in his seat. I put the stroller in the trunk. I got in the front seat, turned the key. Only to have the engine sputter.

I think I’ll join MrMan in a nap.

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Dear MrMan,

This morning, you turned two weeks old. In some ways, it hardly seems that long since you entered this world. At the same time, life without you in it seems like a distant memory. I can’t believe how your changes are already apparent, and realizing that made me realize that I want to remember what you are like right now.

At your first doctor’s visit two days ago, we found out that you’ve gained half a pound since birth. (You also urinated on the scale, but luckily it was after your weight was taken.) Finding out that you’ve gained (rather than lost, as often happens in this period of time) weight, made my sore nipples worth it. (All those books that say breastfeeding isn’t supposed to hurt were obviously written by people who have never done it.)

Your father (who is so amazing with you) and I are impressed by your strength. You push up against us with your feet, looking like you’re ready to run down the street. When you really want to, you’re able to lift your neck a bit. And you have the ability to scooch up and down our bodies, when we’re holding you. Up when when you want to get out a burp. Or a little up, and over to latch your mouth onto our cheeks or necks, when you’re hungry. Down when you smell my milk. Or just want to cuddle to our chests. And, of course, the strength of your sucking action is crazy – a thick shake wouldn’t stand a chance (if you could eat such).

Yesterday, you started reaching for things. Last night, it was my shirt, while opening your mouth, in hopes that somehow you could feed yourself across the bed. This morning, it was for your grandmother’s fingers.

Things about you that charm me:
Your little smile that often appears as you’re dozing off, as if you can’t wait to get to your dreams
Your patience when you sense that a feeding is close at hand – only if I take too long to get situated do you start to cry
The way you slurp milk off of your hands when feeding gets a little messy
The way you sometimes zone out after eating – not falling asleep, just seemingly tuning us out. We call it your Zen look.
How your big toes stick up, much like your uncle’s
How you sometimes look a bit like E.T. – a movie from before your time, but we’ll show it to you one day. For the record, we like E.T.

My love for you is limitless, MrMan. (Your father thinks my nickname for you is a little goofy, since you have many years before you reach manhood, but that won’t stop me from using it.)

Mommy

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