..is rough. Maybe it’s just me, but it’s hard for me to let so many other people cuddle my little boy, especially if he’s crying. I kept thinking, “Hey! That’s my job!” Not to mention the ensuing crabbiness. He was taking great naps before we went and while we were there, waking up cooing and giggling; but in the aftermath, he’s become an infamous, crabby, 45-minute napper. (Bryan is continually reminding me that naps do not hold a moral value; therefore, they cannot be bad. I get the point, but it’s hard to rework my thinking.) I can tell already that he will be a passionate person, full of zest and zeal — he could be wailing at the top of his lungs, see a pretty pink greeting card cross his path, and immediately stop and stare, as if he were thinking, “Hmm, that looks kind of nice.” After a short creative interlude, and perhaps a smile or two, he reassumes his wailing and screaming. Oh, Jones.
And there he is — 45 minutes, on the dot.
Twenty minutes and a screaming fit later, here I am again. Really, I think he’s just tired and misses our house. We’re still not ‘at home,’ though we are back in Lincoln. We’re house-sitting for some family friends for the week, though I think we will go back to our little duplex tomorrow and just drive over here to water the plants (there are TONS of them!). Jones misses his crib. He loves his crib — he will lay in there after his first feeding and squeal for 45 minutes. (Ah.. 45 minutes. This fraction of time will forever hold a new meaning in my life.)
And there he is again. You know, becoming a mom has really improved my hearing. I can now detect a vibrating cell phone anywhere in the house. Blessing? Or curse?
By the way, happy 3-months tomorrow, to my little man! 🙂