My parents’ old office chair makes a good rocker. I’ve learned this over the past few days as I’ve tried to steal a few minutes at the computer during feedings. It’s nice to be able to rock him to sleep once he’s nice and full, and then take a few minutes to glimpse at what the world is up to, or to stare vacantly at the trees out the window next to my desk.
J-man (thanks, sister) turned seven-weeks-old yesterday. Right now we’re in the office chair, him asleep on my chest, me debating whether which I need worse: a nap or lunch. Instead of taking either, I’m here writing, which I’ve wanted to do for days. It’s amazing how childbirth gives you fodder for creativity. The nine months of pregnancy were so miserable that I felt sharing would only be a gripe session, so I limited how much I shared. And really, these last seven weeks have plenty of their own gripes, but probably lots of good stuff, too. Getting a smile at week five stands out as a highlight. The five-hour stretch of sleep J-man had a few nights ago stands out as well.
Having my finger pooped on twice in three days does not.
I have to say, I’m just not one of those women who loved being pregnant, and I’ve decided I’m probably not one that loves the newborn stage, either. Don’t get me wrong: I love my newborn. Love him. What with the “baby blues” and all that, it took me some time to realize how much, but I would definitely seriously consider murdering anyone who tried to touch him inappropriately, or what have you.
However, I’m really, really looking forward to finding out what is going ON in that brain of his. J-man is not a cuddly baby, unless he’s not feeling well, or has fallen asleep in my arms. From the time he wakes up in the morning, he’s looking around and taking things in. If he’s being held, he wants to be held so that he can see what’s going on around him. As soon as he arrived in our house we noticed his obsession with the trees outside our bedroom window. Generally speaking, he can’t get enough of trees (good thing, we’re surrounded). Once my arms get tired from holding him up over my shoulder so he can look out the window, I transfer him to his playmat so he can gaze at himself for a while. That gets old after about 10 minutes, so we move to his bouncy seat. At this point I usually put him in the bathroom with me so I can shower, pee, brush my teeth, or perform whatever other hygiene rituals I’ve been bypassing for the last three days. He likes to chat with the toys that hang over this little chair, and I swear they’re telling him jokes because I’ve caught him smiling at them more than once. Once their stories get old, he starts to fuss some more, so at this point we have to leave the house and find something new to look at. Honestly, keeping him entertained is already making me tired. The only time he’s content to just be held is when football is on television. I’m hoping this is an interest that continues, because at the rate he’s growing he’s going to make a heckuva football player. (Have I mentioned that he’s been rolling over since his one-month birthday? Yeah, I’m going to have to start baby-proofing the house next week, I figure.)
All that to say, J-man seems to find the world a very interesting place. He fights sleep during the day, as if he doesn’t want to stop learning. I’m lucky if he sleeps two hours in the afternoon, in addition to the 12-ish hours he gets at night. Supposedly most newborns sleep up to 18 hours a day. Gosh, that would be nice.
I’m looking forward to finding out what he thinks of all this mess. I’m looking forward to the day when he can chase the dogs around the house (and help clean up after them). I’m looking forward to making a quote book, and maybe sharing his witticisms here on this blog. I’m looking forward to answering his questions, finding out what makes him tick, learning what he loves and what his passions are. I’m looking forward to getting to know my kid.
And I’m also looking forward to not having my finger pooped on.