I spend pretty much a ridiculous amount of time these days lounging around with my boobs out. Often they are feeding my baby, but sometimes also they are just out because I forget to put them away and also because the lactation nurse told me they like to get aired out. She also suggested sunning them, but we haven’t done that. It’s a bit cold out for toplessness. Which reminds me, have you ever had someone suggest going to a tapas bar, but to you it sounds like they are saying “topless bar”? And you think, well, as long as the sangria is as good as you say... Yep, me too.
So, the point of confessing how I spend my days is to explain the quiet around these parts. Life is slow. Good slow, but little in the way of events to report. And believe me... I can usually strangle a story out of a walk to the corner, but these days? Slow news days, I’m telling you.
Lately the snippets of eventfulness have turned out to be a bunch of non-stories, once I think about them.
Two days ago, Baby Grady and I walked over to the market and picked up some stocking stuffers (though we don’t actually have stockings, hmmm...) And I realized that now that Grady is outside of me, I really hate people talking to me about my baby. And that used to be my favorite! But now any comment sounds like a veiled threat to come closer and possibly even touch my baby. This hasn’t happened, but I am preemptively quite rude and dismissive, to discourage any such antics. It’s like a whole new side of me!
Yesterday, we signed Baby Grady up for daycare, all officially and with dates and deposits. He’ll go two days a week starting in May and while I didn’t cry, I know I would have if I’d thought too hard about it. Also, yesterday, my baby’s daddy noted that I am looking so fine for having just given birth so recently. He says this sorta regularly now! And I wonder if someone told him to, or if it was his idea? Because it’s like a whole new side of him!
Sometimes, like right now, I wish I had a snack stash within reaching-distance of my couch. Because, really? Fattening up this baby? High snacking demands. And this baby is growing more baby on the daily. He’s a pound-and-a-half up from his birth weight these days, which, well, that takes some serious milk production. So it’s really lucky that lactating was my secret undiscovered talent.
And with that I give you what you actually came here for. Pictures. Of a baby. Because while I may lack eventfulness and substance upon which to base a blog post, I still have a baby and a camera.
This is the emotional progression that Grady goes through approximately every ten minutes throughout the day...
Milk-drunk baby:
So, the point of confessing how I spend my days is to explain the quiet around these parts. Life is slow. Good slow, but little in the way of events to report. And believe me... I can usually strangle a story out of a walk to the corner, but these days? Slow news days, I’m telling you.
Lately the snippets of eventfulness have turned out to be a bunch of non-stories, once I think about them.
Two days ago, Baby Grady and I walked over to the market and picked up some stocking stuffers (though we don’t actually have stockings, hmmm...) And I realized that now that Grady is outside of me, I really hate people talking to me about my baby. And that used to be my favorite! But now any comment sounds like a veiled threat to come closer and possibly even touch my baby. This hasn’t happened, but I am preemptively quite rude and dismissive, to discourage any such antics. It’s like a whole new side of me!
Yesterday, we signed Baby Grady up for daycare, all officially and with dates and deposits. He’ll go two days a week starting in May and while I didn’t cry, I know I would have if I’d thought too hard about it. Also, yesterday, my baby’s daddy noted that I am looking so fine for having just given birth so recently. He says this sorta regularly now! And I wonder if someone told him to, or if it was his idea? Because it’s like a whole new side of him!
Sometimes, like right now, I wish I had a snack stash within reaching-distance of my couch. Because, really? Fattening up this baby? High snacking demands. And this baby is growing more baby on the daily. He’s a pound-and-a-half up from his birth weight these days, which, well, that takes some serious milk production. So it’s really lucky that lactating was my secret undiscovered talent.
And with that I give you what you actually came here for. Pictures. Of a baby. Because while I may lack eventfulness and substance upon which to base a blog post, I still have a baby and a camera.
This is the emotional progression that Grady goes through approximately every ten minutes throughout the day...
Milk-drunk baby:
Thoughtful baby (he's thinking about boobs):
Baby with “put a boob in my mouth” face:
A “WTF, people, boob me!” baby headed for a meltdown:
Unrelated to boobs, this is a post-daddy-lullaby baby (dads have to have more sophisticated tricks):
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