It would appear that James is one week (and one day, as of this morning) old. Where does the time go?
We “celebrated” with a minor surgical procedure. I was kicked out of the doctor’s office, but I made Tony stay (he volunteered, but I wasn’t going to let him get out of it). By all accounts, Jamie did better than most boys, nearly sleeping through the operation after anesthesia was applied. And a bonus, I didn’t cry at the first diaper change. Well, maybe, but only a little bit.
We also went to Target and had dinner at Red Robin. When we got home and I had a monster headache and there were still dishes in the sink and a toddler to bathe and read to and a baby to nurse, and a dog to feed, and the garden to weed etc, etc, I was reminded that just because Jamie sleeps so much better than Charles did at this point, doesn’t mean that it’s “enough” sleep for me (he’s totally a “typical” newborn, eating and getting changed every 1.5-2.5 hours at night). Oh, and I also pushed him out of me a week ago, an event from which I am not fully recovered. That’s why I’m not allowed to do anything for six weeks, why do I keep forgetting this?
Anyhow, today, we’re taking it easy.
Some people seem to be disappointed that James is a boy. Not me. I love this little boy and I am so excited to double our fun boy activities. And Charles is thrilled to have a baby brother. It will be tough to be the second boy, I’ve no doubt, but he’ll never have to worry about whether or not his mother adores him. I adore him buckets full.