Wednesday, August 27, 2008

The Plea of Breastfeeding Mother.

Maiya Adisen, we have got to talk. As you might have noticed, I am at your beckon call 24 hours a day. I have nourished you with my own body since the moment your life began, 11 months ago. Yes, I have left you three time since your birth, but when you're older you'll understand how much a couple of hours out alone means to a mother of an infant. In other words, I am working very hard to take care of you.

So I have one simple question: Why will you only smile at Daddy?!

I realize you have a wonderful Dad - I picked him out. Yes, I know he works hard to take care of you too. I realize you look like him. I get it - the father/daughter bond starts very young! But have ya noticed who rolls out of bed at 3 o'clock AM (and 1 o'clock, and 5 o'clock and every o'clock) to give you whatever you want? How about one, tiny flicker of a smile? Please. I will beg. I'm begging.

Monday, August 25, 2008

Can't get enough


I know that some of you check our family website, and this picture is there as well, but I just had to post it. I know she's my child and I should just politely say "thanks" when somebody says she's cute. But I can't help it. Look at this little cutie!! She looks more like Dave than Haven, but I must say that I'm thrilled to see those big cheeks on her!

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Normal Things

After my exam at my 6 week postpartum check up, the doctor said, "Okay, everything is back to normal." I can only assume that when he said "everything" he meant to say "nothing."

A few days this week I have enjoyed more than stressed about the gigantic responsibility to TWO babies. I still don't know what to do when they're both crying, besides join in on the tears, but I'm working that out through trial and error.

Yesterday the three of us made it all the way to Brooklyn to visit Jes. I'm very proud of myself since I was working off of four hours of sleep. We walked around, had a picnic and I identified the various strollers we passed (in Brooklyn nobody owns your basic travel system). We made it home with just a short bout in bumper-to-bumper traffic with Maiya screaming her heart out and Haven saying "mo, mo" as he munched goldfish crackers. Maiya was soothed when I shut off the air and opened the windows so she could hear the oh-so-soothing sounds of New York City. Overall, two thumbs up for us.

I already have only faint memories of our family without Maiya. She just fits. She goes. She's just the person we were waiting for. She loves to cuddle, accepts Haven's less-than-dry kisses, loves fresh air and can howl like a coyote when she wants something. She took her first bath in the big tub last night - with me, sorry, no pictures - and loved it. We are waiting for her first "social" smile with baited breath. Everytime I think I see one, she spits up. What a little joker.

So, we're redefining our normal, and the definition is coming along just fine.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Maiya's World























Okay, so far so good. The first month of my life hasn't been too bad. Lots of eating, sleeping, my parents seem nice....


















Oh no! He found me! How do I get outa here? Where can I go?!


















No, no more kisses! No, please! Put that tongue away!! Okay, okay, I love you too!

















Listen, Mr. Innocent Face, the day will come when I can get outa this stinkin' Boppy and slobber all over YOUR face! Got it?




Wednesday, August 06, 2008

August Days

We all could use a bath. I wonder what would happen if I plunked the three of us in one bubble bath. I picture Haven baptizing Maiya in bubbles. I picture shaving my legs while balancing an infant. I am confident that a bath is more likely to result in injury than in cleanliness. I decide to do it the old fashioned way, which is, not at all.

When Maiya pulls away, I lift her, pat her back for what feels like eternity, until she produces a ripe burp. Later, Haven burps in my face as I sing to him at nap time and I almost vomit. Maiya's burps however, still the result of nothing but breast milk, are almost sweet. She falls asleep with her ear pressed against my chest and my heart beat lulls her deeper into dreamland. Moments later, I lift us from the couch and Haven follows from his perch next to me. I put Maiya in her bed cozied by a pillow at her back. I look at Haven, who has already moved on to explore the one place in the kitchen where he can get to some pots. With a deep breath, I whisper a thankful prayer that I did not crumble into tears an hour previous when Haven was inconsolably whining and Maiya was happy with nothing less than my holding her.

Our house is unusually quiet, as our month-long string of visitors has just ended. I decide that after few days without company we will find the rhythm of a routine again. Actually, it may take weeks. The realization hits me as I finish the dishes I have already started three times this morning. I turn off the faucet to see pans strewn through the living room and the silence is interrupted by the crashing of two lids, a toddler symphony. I wonder if there is a childproof lock for the drawer beneath the oven.

We will take small steps these next few weeks. Cleaning the dishes might be a victory some days, and baths a revolution.