I am sad to admit that I am no longer in love with the newborn stage.
Newborns used to be my favorite. Their tiny finger and tiny toes. Their curled up bodies against mine. Their coma-like sleep. Their need for little else than food and diapers. Their easy portability. And all the "oohs" and "ahhs" from strangers asking how old he/she is.
I'm so over it.
I look at other moms with six-month-olds and I'm envious.
Oh, Bobby. I do love you. But I'm longing for the day when your interests broaden beyond the one and only thing you seem to care about: boobs. You are a boy, after all, so I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised.
Bobby turned one month old yesterday and he decided to celebrate with a little party that began at the crack of midnight and ended somewhere in the four o'clock hour. AM, that is.
I have never had a newborn who is quite as...hmmm...I hate to say fussy. It seems a little mean-spirited. Shall we say, needy? Or "uncontented"?
Whatever it is, he cries. Kind of a lot. And not the lovely little cryout that seems to be saying, "Hey guys! Remember me? Anyone got a fresh diaper handy? I could really use one over here."
Instead he seems to be screaming at the top of his lungs:
"WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU PEOPLE? WHO DO I HAVE TO TALK TO TO GET A LITTLE MILK AROUND HERE?! AND WHILE YOU'RE AT I TOTALLY POOPED MY PANTS ABOUT FIVE MINUTES AGO SO IF YOU COULD TAKE CARE OF THAT IMMEDIATELY THAT WOULD BE AWESOME. WHAT'S THAT YOU SAY? YOU HAVE HAVE THREE OTHER KIDS TO TAKE CARE OF? NOT MY PROBLEM, LADY! NOW GET OVER HERE WITH THOSE BOOBS. Wait. Wait. I HAVE A BURP. RIGHT NOW! GET IT OUT! NOW CLEAN UP THAT PUKE I JUST SPLATTERED ALL OVER YOU AND ME. AND THEN GET ME SOME MILK!! Hold on. I think I'm dozing off. Ahh, yes. There we go. NOPE! FOOLED YOU! TWO MINUTE NAP. HA! HA! HA!"
If you are someone who has no children yet, do not let this change your mind about procreating. Not all babies are like this! I swear it!
I'm trying to be patient. I'm waiting for that magical age of six weeks when babies seem to work out their newborn kinks and start to love life outside the womb a little more. Six weeks is the ticket, right? Don't tell me if it's not. I'm not sure I can wait much longer.
He did have a good day and night yesterday. I also noticed in the bath last night (Which he cried through for about 90% of the time. DUDE, this is supposed to be relaxing!) that his baby acne is starting to clear up. So I think I'm starting to love him more.
I snapped this picture of him this morning which I'm going to print out multiple copies of and tape all over the house just to remind me that he does, at the very least, have the potential of not crying and looking cute.
Newborns used to be my favorite. Their tiny finger and tiny toes. Their curled up bodies against mine. Their coma-like sleep. Their need for little else than food and diapers. Their easy portability. And all the "oohs" and "ahhs" from strangers asking how old he/she is.
I'm so over it.
I look at other moms with six-month-olds and I'm envious.
Oh, Bobby. I do love you. But I'm longing for the day when your interests broaden beyond the one and only thing you seem to care about: boobs. You are a boy, after all, so I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised.
Bobby turned one month old yesterday and he decided to celebrate with a little party that began at the crack of midnight and ended somewhere in the four o'clock hour. AM, that is.
I have never had a newborn who is quite as...hmmm...I hate to say fussy. It seems a little mean-spirited. Shall we say, needy? Or "uncontented"?
Whatever it is, he cries. Kind of a lot. And not the lovely little cryout that seems to be saying, "Hey guys! Remember me? Anyone got a fresh diaper handy? I could really use one over here."
Instead he seems to be screaming at the top of his lungs:
"WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU PEOPLE? WHO DO I HAVE TO TALK TO TO GET A LITTLE MILK AROUND HERE?! AND WHILE YOU'RE AT I TOTALLY POOPED MY PANTS ABOUT FIVE MINUTES AGO SO IF YOU COULD TAKE CARE OF THAT IMMEDIATELY THAT WOULD BE AWESOME. WHAT'S THAT YOU SAY? YOU HAVE HAVE THREE OTHER KIDS TO TAKE CARE OF? NOT MY PROBLEM, LADY! NOW GET OVER HERE WITH THOSE BOOBS. Wait. Wait. I HAVE A BURP. RIGHT NOW! GET IT OUT! NOW CLEAN UP THAT PUKE I JUST SPLATTERED ALL OVER YOU AND ME. AND THEN GET ME SOME MILK!! Hold on. I think I'm dozing off. Ahh, yes. There we go. NOPE! FOOLED YOU! TWO MINUTE NAP. HA! HA! HA!"
If you are someone who has no children yet, do not let this change your mind about procreating. Not all babies are like this! I swear it!
I'm trying to be patient. I'm waiting for that magical age of six weeks when babies seem to work out their newborn kinks and start to love life outside the womb a little more. Six weeks is the ticket, right? Don't tell me if it's not. I'm not sure I can wait much longer.
He did have a good day and night yesterday. I also noticed in the bath last night (Which he cried through for about 90% of the time. DUDE, this is supposed to be relaxing!) that his baby acne is starting to clear up. So I think I'm starting to love him more.
I snapped this picture of him this morning which I'm going to print out multiple copies of and tape all over the house just to remind me that he does, at the very least, have the potential of not crying and looking cute.
As I type he's napping in his bouncy chair with the vibrator on high. You should see the amount of D batteries we go through. Going to a baby shower in the near future? Stock those unknowing new parents with loads of D batteries. They'll thank you later.
Wine and beer make good gifts too.
I'm starting to realize a "wine and beer" closing works with most all blog posts I write.
Wine and beer make good gifts too.
I'm starting to realize a "wine and beer" closing works with most all blog posts I write.
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