Here we go, with my attempt to have a bloggy baby book…
At two weeks old, Maddy is starting to have more identifiable routines, which is helping us all get our feet under ourselves again. For example, I’ve figured out that she won’t be put down at this time of day, which happens to coincide with dinner-prep time. I’m hoping I outsmarted her by starting dinner in the crock pot earlier today.
She sleeps for pretty long stretches every night; we nurse two or three times, and she spends about 40 minutes quietly awake at some point during the night. All in all, we’re feeling pretty well-rested (and yeah…I’m sure I just jinxed us).
Unfortunately, she seems to have inherited her father’s childhood propensity for regurgitation, and her mother’s extreme aversion to the same. It’s kind of the worst possible combination, so hopefully her stomach and my milk supply meet in the middle soon. In the meantime, she’s eating and gaining weight like a champ, so I’m not too worried. In fact, she outgrew her first outfit yesterday (thanks to length, not girth, but that’ll happen soon).
Last week at our pediatrician visit, we met with the on-staff lactation consultant, an older woman with a heavy Boston accent who gave me her cell phone number while emphasizing that she’s mostly deaf (“But call me any time of day!”). Thanks to Maddy’s impressive nursing recital, she didn’t have a lot to add. In what is becoming a running theme of our post-delivery experiences, the LC couldn’t believe this was our first baby (she can get in line behind one of my OBs, who tried to send us home early because he forgot this was our first rodeo). I guess we’re fooling someone, anyway.
Maddy is a lot more alert than she used to be, and it’s obvious that her vision is getting clearer. She likes to stare at the wedding photos above our couch, and it’s not uncommon for her to fix Johnny or I with a long, intense, slightly-crosseyed stare. But by far her favorite thing to stare at is herself, in the mirror next to her changing table. Without fail, “Mirror Baby” is her steadfast companion through the most harrowing of diaper changes.
In case you’re not inclined to watch that only-a-grandmother-could-love-it video, let me offer an alternate that’s pretty close: