We hit 7 weeks today. Whoo HOO! Another week closer to head, trunk, and limb control. Another week more sturdy, less fragile, more substantial.
Sufyan is continuing to smile and smile, and to be fussier in the early evening (traditionally a fussy time for most babies and Sufyan is a light fusser, not bad).
A few mothering milestones:
I took him to get groceries! I was so afraid to do this. Afraid I would be that mom with the screaming baby who is whizzing through produce sweating bullets as she grabs whatever fruit is closest…and I know I WILL have days of being that mom. But this was not one of them.
I made it to the farm again today.
I learned the right angle to suction his nose effectively (mmm-hmmm).
I did a YOGA PRACTICE on my own! It felt exquisite.
I went to a postnatal yoga class with the boy.
I love being his mom.
*holding your pee until your little boy is done with smiley time so you don’t miss anything.
*learning to pee with an infant on your shoulder, which entails learning to do buttons, zippers, waistbands one handed.
*contorting your body into all kinds of odd shapes to support his tiny but very heavy body and huge but cute head.
*aching back, sore knees, tired head, and very full heart.
*making choices like: “in the 10 minutes you may be asleep enough for me to sneak out of the room, should I brush my teeth or close the windows? should I take a shower or put away dishes? should I call so and so back or drink a glass of water?”
*realizing that although you are tired and not sure how to make your little guy stop crying and feel better, although you are frustrated and frazzled, mothering is remembering that although you feel like you are the cause of the beet red crying face in front of you, you are in fact his only way of feeling better and calmer. Mothering is remembering that if you lose it at that moment he has no one to be his anchor as he works through whatever is bugging him. Mothering is not losing it, but taking a deep breath and sending him love instead. Even if love means not knowing what to do but pat him on the back, cry with him, or offer the boob for the millionth time.
*mothering is opening doors and turning on lights with your feet because your hands are always full…
*mothering is picking your shirt in the morning according to how well it hides spit up. Black doesn’t work so well…
*mothering is finding yourself humming the tune to “all the fishies are swimming in the water, swimming in the water, swimming in the water…” to yourself.