Day 17 of newborn parenting … the grandparents have left and it is just the four of us again. Five if you count the dog. Which I should. But he is just so darn well-behaved and quiet, sometimes we forget he’s here with us. He’s just that good a dog.
As you can see, my mind is beginning to wander. Off. I’m getting sleep … in 1-2 hour increments. I’m getting enough to eat … and starting to gain back the baby weight I miraculously lost the first 2 weeks. I’m getting … aw, shucks, I’m getting tired.
Little Bear is a voracious eater. He’s very good at it, and eating brings him both joy and solace. Whatever his issue — gas in his belly, solid waste that needs to come out, hunger, just the crankies — it can be fixed with a quick nurse. But — and this is a big but — he then needs to be held upright for 30-45 minutes so it doesn’t come back up. He spits up. A bit. Not enough that I need to change his clothes or anything (I’m getting really good at catching it with a cloth diaper), but enough so that I’m afraid he’d choke if he spit up lying down.
Oh, and did I mention that when he spits up it spews out his nose? Each. And. Every. Time. They say there’s nothing odd about that, but really?
Grampa says it’s just that Little Bear really likes his jokes.
My point, and I do have one, is that when you have a baby who eats for 30 minutes, sits up afterward for 45 minutes, and then needs to be fed 2-3 hours after the feeding began, there’s not a lot of time in edgewise for naps. For me, I mean.
This too shall pass. But in the meantime, it’s making it awfully hard for me to finish that proposal I’m writing.