Contact: superninjamommy [at] gmail [dot] com

Friday, November 6, 2009

Things to Remember.

His beautiful, beautiful feet. They're long and skinny, and the bottoms are ridiculously soft.

Sometimes, when he's sleeping, his breathing will suddenly get fast and jittery for a moment or two, and then back to normal.

His fingers are so long. Maybe he'll be a jazz pianist when he grows up.

His cord fell off when he was one week old.

He has soft, nearly invisible fuzz on his ears and cheeks and shoulders.

At ten days old, he still has some bruising from birth, mostly under his eyes.

You can feel the sutures in his skull when you rub his head.

He doesn't like to be put down. He wants to be held and cuddled every moment of the day.

He smiles in his sleep.

He looks exactly like The Babe did at this age. I mean, exactly. I can tell their pictures apart, but The Hub can't. They look that similar.

He has been wearing size 3-6 months since birth.

He is the most magnificent thing I have ever seen.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Chips.

I left the house.

Actually, I've left the house a couple times since the baby was born. Monday, I went to the courthouse to get his birth certificate, and Tuesday I got some groceries.

But today, The Hub took me and the kids (sans EJ, since she was at school) to a little restaurant up the road from us. It's really small and looks kind of crummy so we've never eaten there before, but it was actually really clean and nice on the inside.

Beastie got a mini cheeseburger with chips. She ate the chips. Then she crushed some chips and put them on the cheeseburger, and dug at the bun a couple times, but that's it.

The chips though. That's what made me want to write this post.

"Look at this chip, Momma," she said. "It's a twacta."

"Oh," I said. "It does look like a tractor."

"No it's not, it's a boat!" she said.

"It's a boat?" Five asked.

Beastie gave her the dirtiest look.

"It's not a boat, " she answered. "It's a chip."

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

One Week

A week ago, right this very minute, I was walking through WalMart, picking up some fabric to make a hat for my new baby. I was ridiculously large, and had a distinct waddle because, that morning, my baby decided to drop low into my pelvis.

It was so bright and sunny out, and I rubbed my belly on the way home, telling the baby to come out and see the pretty leaves.

I knew he'd be coming that day. I knew it. I knew it even as I talked to my grandma on the phone, three hours before his birth, telling her that I wasn't having contractions. We talked about how, when she was pregnant for my mom, she went to the doctor in the morning and he said he could feel the baby's head, and a few hours later my mom was born. I told her what the midwife had said the day before, that she could feel the baby's head, but I told her I didn't feel any contractions so maybe it wouldn't be today. But I knew it would. I just knew.

A week ago, in the morning, my midwife had called me. I was sleeping. I got the best night's sleep and was just enjoying a leisurely rest. She wanted to know if I was having contractions. I wasn't.

The Hub made lasagna for dinner a week ago today. I could hardly eat it, but I forced it down. At 8 pm, I got in bed. I wanted to rest, because I knew. I just knew.

And then around 8:45, the contractions started. And at 10:28, I had a baby boy.

It seems like he's been here forever. I can't really remember sleeping alone, uncomfortable with my huge belly. It's hard to imagine I ever got up three or four times a night to pee. I can't believe it's only been a week.

I keep thinking about the birth, and how it never really hurt. On a scale of one to ten, my pain level never got above a five, and that was just during crowning. I am infinitely glad that I planned a homebirth because I never would have made it to a hospital. I didn't really feel labor-y until about fifteen minutes before he came out. I am eternally grateful for a deep mother's instinct that told me to call the midwife when I did. I would have been terrified to birth without her calm, gentle assistance.

I am a changed woman. I have arrived. I feel like I need to create, to commemorate my son's beautiful, peaceful birth and my arrival as a complete woman.

I am going to decorate my house with things I create. I am going to fill this house up with beautiful things, because it is no longer just a house. It is the place where I became.