|I was way too impatient to wait for a smile.|
This is the paragraph that I would LIKE to be contained in this post:
Jack has acclimated nicely to a predictable and structured schedule. He sleeps peacefully for 12 hours straight each night, along with the routine morning and afternoon naps we both enjoy. When this ever-so-smiley guy is awake, we spend hours cuddling and playing. Except, of course, from the time I set aside for exercising and getting myself ready for the day, that is. It would be a shame to hide this size two body under a pair of baggy, bleach stained sweatpants after all! Jack rarely spits up or fusses and his sweet smelling poop is always contained neatly in his diaper. And since he goes down at seven each evening, Brock and I are able to spend lots of quality time together. I never knew having a baby would be so easy! I'm already thinking about baby #2!
Ha. Yeah. Freakin'. Right. Don't I wish...
If there is one thing that I have learned in the past two months, it is this: babies (at least this one) are NEVER predictable. Not at this age, anyway. Almost every notion I had about Jack at one month has changed over the past few weeks.
|The old Jack.|
|See? Serious but calm. And tastefully covered.|
Poop. Jack used to do it all the time. Little, cute, neat diaper messes were cleaned up with ease. Apparently Jack's bowels have matured or something, because now he's only pooping once or twice a day. This is nice, as far as diaper/wipe conservation goes. (Who wants to spend $ on this kind of stuff, right?) But when he poop, he POOPS. Some of these blowouts have reached epic proportions. I once cleaned poop off my child's neck. This is not a joke. To date he has pooped directly on me (a few times), Brock, my sister-in-law Brandy, his carseat (that one was probably out of spite), his changing table and multiple blankets. This is some pretty persistent slime, sneakily fighting its way through a thick layer of diaper, a thin layer of onesie and whatever else Jack has on. The silver lining to this cloud is that Jack is almost always in a really good mood after this happens. Hey, I think we can all relate... (Did I just cross the line?)
|Disclaimer: Jack never sleeps in our bed unsupervised.|
|$4 baby toy? Yes please.|
|Happy babe, happy mom.|
We love our little man so much. I miss him when I'm away from him for an hour; I'm sure it's much worse for Brock who is at work and school all day. He really is the best!
Also, let's quickly address one more aspect of my "fantasy" paragraph. No, I am nowhere near a size two. Probably never will be. I have been trying to mix in a little gym time now and then, mostly because gym clothes are stretchy (thus easier to fit into). But my bleach stained sweats are always a nice alternative.
A few more pictures:
|My main men.|
|I laugh out loud every time I see this picture. Sometimes I look away and then look back so I can laugh again. He looks like a creepy bobblehead or some sort of mutant from a Goosebumps book.|
|Acid reflux in action. Quite possibly the luckiest shot of my life.|