Monday, November 4, 2013
We are in the thick of it here. House: trashed. Me: unshowered, covered in milk, spit up, etc. All of us: exhausted. Except Christopher, who sleeps whenever he feels like it, which is definitely not between the hours of 10 p.m. and 2 a.m.
I hope we can figure out this day/night reversal thing soon, but I also want him to sleep as much as possible, since he is still recovering from surgery. The poor guy also has problems with gas and reflux. So he is a bit grumpy. He has been grumpy since he was born, and am I not sure if this is due to the gas, the reflux, the surgery, or if it is just his disposition. And God forbid you move him when he is settled. You will be at the receiving end of all of his rage. His lungs work fine.
He is a big boy. He is already well over 11 pounds; in the 96th percentile for height and weight, and quite the little piggy. He eats about 30 ounces a day. Luckily, I can keep up, for now.
He is becoming more alert every day. It is fun to see him start to take in the world. He reacts to the sound of his sister's voice - spinning his head around to look for her. Clare told my mom the other day that she needed to be careful with Christopher, because he is fragile and has a floppy head. In reality, though, his head is not that floppy. The boy is strong, and already heaves himself back and forth and can very nearly hold up his head on his own. I am not that worried that he hates tummy time as much as Clare did at his age.
Having a newborn is both harder and easier this time. Easier, because I am not as worried about every little thing (although that kind of went out the window with the heart situation), but much harder because I have to take care of Clare at the same time. I so wish she was in daycare during the day. We are managing, but I really don't like this newborn stage. I know it is temporary, but I am just so tired, it is hard to remember how fast it goes. I feel so out of touch with the outside world and myself. I am just the local dairy bar, snack-giver, and butt wiper. Nothing more. When I am feeling especially stressed, though, I just breath in his new baby smell. And eat chocolate. Lots of chocolate.