Top 10 Memories of the Newborn Days:
10. All day napping extravangzas - for both of us.
9. Your ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime - the louder the better.
8. The smell, ah that newborn smell...
7. The pastel clothes with chubby neckless animals. Now all your shirts are navy and practically yell (in yellow and red letters) - DIRT! NOISE! BOY! TROUBLE! VEHICLES! Gosh, how I miss the giraffe and hippo who quietly murmured, "We are jungle animal friends".
6. On that note, the hats and hoods with bear ears.
5. The lack of expectation for new parents - Dirty laundry piling up? Bathroom mirror caked in scum? Nothing in the fridge but ketchup? But you were our first newborn, the ultimate excuse!
4. We set you down in one spot...when we came back, you were still in that spot. Now when I leave you momentarily unsupervised to use the bathroom, I return to find that you have deleted several files on the computer, jimmied open the baby lock on the entertainment center to skip past an unfavorable song on your Sandra Boynton cd, have stolen the dog's bone and used it to knock books off the shelf, and are now chewing the bone while jumping on the couch. Impressive.
3. The utter astonishment of us rookies at EVERYTHING you did - he held his head up! Looked right at me! Made a noise! Filled his diaper! Sneezed! Incredible! He must be a genius.
2. This is going to sound mean, but you used to beam yourself right in the head, then look at us in shock, as if to say, "Who hit me in the head?"
1. The cuddles - you were one sweet snuggle bug. I tried so hard to enjoy even the middle of the night feeding cuddles because I knew they'd be gone in a flash.
Top 10 Trials of the Newborn Days:
10. Sponge baths
9. Your freakishly long umbilical cord (the doctor left you a good 6 inches) - we were so afraid that it would snag on a shirt and you would bleed to death.
8. The sleepless nights - what a cliche, but cliches are true.
7. Your lack of neck muscles (aka floppy headed baby).
6. Those snap-up pajamas - Carter's cruel joke on visually impaired, sleep deprived mommies.
5. The binky falling out of your mouth while you lay there helpless like a slug, albeit a screaming slug.
4. The awkward stage when you were too large to carry yet not strong enough to sit up in the grocery cart. I'd desperately prop you up between milk cartons while old ladies tsk-tsk'ed at me.
3. The endless preparation and washing of bottles.
2. The SIDS risk age, when Daddy would check on you every 10 minutes to ensure you were still breathing. We couldn't co-sleep, because before we even tried it, Daddy would wake up with nightmares that you were suffocating in the covers, rip them all off the bed in a fit of terror, yelling for you. He would invariably wake me up (during my turn to sleep of course) and occasionally wake you up from your peaceful slumber in your own crib. This happened at least 6 times. Sweet and protective, yes...but he's lucky I wasn't armed.
1. We used to carry 3, count'em 3, diaper bags for a single hour-long excursion. One was for the normal baby stuff - diapers, wipes, bottles. The second held nothing but bibs, because you could soak one to saturation in about 30 seconds. You are going to think I'm exaggerating but your auntie Lynden timed it, so ask her if you doubt! The third held burp cloths and back-up outfits due to your undiagnosed acid reflux. Your Grammy had to make special extra-large flannel burp cloths, and I have wiped up more of your vomit than I care to discuss. Let's just say, when you make it big, you owe me a really nice handbag for Mother's Day.