Random Thoughts on Babydom

I think of about 85 things to blog about daily, but sadly, I have almost no short-term memory thanks to my sleeplessness. Scratch that, to be precise, I have no transfer to long-term memory. But nobody talks like that. Except Dr. Burns.

Breastfeeding is ridiculously easy. Breastfeeding is ridiculously hard. True story. We're on week 7 of working through it, and I still don't feel like an expert. I have one, ahem, team member on the injured list. How long has she been there? Oh, about 5 weeks. I'll describe. She's gone from slightly cracked, so a spiral crack from tip to base, and now, well, she looks like a Mercedes symbol. Yowza. Blood? You betcha. Or I might be producing strawberry milk. ANYway, that part is hard. The rest of it? Easy as pie. She cries, I'm about 2 layers of clothing from happy baby. No bottles to wash, no scoops of formula to spill. Just WAAAH, splat, done. I highly recommend, if you can swing it.

She's smiling. Daily. When it started, I would work and work and work and coo and baby talk and then, after 30 minutes, she'd grin. Now, I pick her up and WHAM, in-your-face emoting. I love it. Of course, from smiling-rarely to smiling constantly was about a week. It felt longer than that.

Here's the sad part: I have to go back to work in three weeks. How did the time pass so fast? The first two days, daycare can't take her, so Mike is staying at home with her. That should be interesting for sure. Mike, every time she cries, looks at me and says, "I think she's hungry." Every time. I could be burping her, with milk still on her chin, she peeps, Mike declares that she's hungry. I'll get back from work and she'll weigh 40 pounds. And spit up all over me. Of course, back to work means pumping and bottle-making. So much for the ease of breastfeeding. Now feeding her will be twice as much work. Fancy!

Crying baby... must run.