She’s six weeks old today. She still has ten fingers and 10 toes. We haven’t dropped her on her punkin head. She seems to be fairly well adjusted, happy and thriving. I guess we aren’t total failures. Yet.
Actually, the whole parenting thing has been easier than I anticipated. I think we really lucked out in the baby department and she’s just easy to get along with. Yeah, I’m surviving on much less sleep than I thought was humanly possible and I’ve seen more poop and washed more spit-up on clothing than I ever could have imagined, but all in all, this is…well, it’s cake.
We’ve had bumpy spots of course. At first she had jaundice and wasn’t gaining weight the way they wanted her to. So I was told to supplement her feedings with formula. Which she refused. Which sent me in to a sobbing puddle of failed mommy. But that all sorted itself out quite nicely. Maybe I’m just in some sort of stupor, but I can’t think of anything else that’s been really challenging.
She’s gotten into her stride and is finally past the sleeping all the time phase. We’re lucky, she’s happy during the day to hang out in her swing and watch us do what we need to do. She has her nightly fussy period, but as long as she’s being held or fed, she’s content. Keeps my hands full, and nothing else gets done, but it is a small price to pay. She’s even sleeping now for pretty good chunks of time at night.
I’ll come back and read this when she’s two and demands to wear the same mismatched outfit for weeks at a time.