Fiona Smith - Oakland, California
As usual, I don't wake up to an alarm clock this morning, but to the sound of Rowan in his little basket next to my bed letting out a cry. Treasuring even 30 more seconds of sleep at 3:30 in the morning, I wait to see if he'll go back to sleep. This time he doesn't so I start the routine I've done countless times since he was born almost two months ago. I put my glasses on, take a sip of water and lift him out of the basket and onto the bed in front of me. I put down a waterproof sheet, unswaddle him and change his diaper praying that he won't projectile pee or worse for the four-second window that he is diaperless. I'm glad that he's just whimpering a little bit and not screaming so Todd seems to be sleeping obliviously. I carry him to the chair a few feet away, near the small halogen lamp lighting the room and I nurse him. I sit silently with my head hunched over, closing my eyes occasionally, watching him suck away, slipping my pinky in his mouth to take him off when he starts to squirm.
Other highlights of the day:
Hanging out in bed with him in the late morning. I try to sleep but even though tired, I'm unable to resist singing and talking to him because he's in a happy mood, so he gets to hear old hits that I haven't thought about for 25 years like "row row row your boat." He looks cute making sounds like "ghee" and "ooh," kicking his legs when he gets excited.
Enjoying my usual soundtrack of NPR as I hang around the house with the baby. I get excited after I try propping him facing outward on my knee, which allows me to sit and read the Economist because I have both arms free.
Take the baby and dog out for a walk in the wonderful sunny weather we've been having. Guzo doesn't pull on his leash, and I begin to think he may not be as much of a pain in the ass as I thought.
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