What does one write when not much is happening on the daily? (I have a hard enough time figuring out what to write when a lot of things are happening.) I did just have a baby, and I can see her reflection in the computer screen as I type this. I suppose that's a pretty big thing, but what does one SAY about a newborn. I mean. I guess I could post pictures of her sleeping and talk about how she's a little gassy and grumpy at night, but otherwise she's kind of an angel compared to the hellion that her brother was at this age.
I could tell you that cloth diapering two little people with a washer that hooks up to my sink is hard. The activity of last week involved doing everything I could to get the ammonia out of my polyester inserts and finally just giving up, retiring them, and stuffing my pocket diapers with old prefolds.
But let's be real. How bloggable is ammonia? Like 5% bloggable?
Also, as a committed cloth diapering advocate, I must routinely sweep all cloth diapering negatives under the rug and portray the whole cloth diapering process as shiny and happy and full of fluffy owl-print baby bums.
So. Yeah. I'm Kate. I'm a stay at home mom. I wash a load of diapers everyday and drink wine.
I've developed a mantra for mothers of little people everywhere - and CD moms especially. And this is it:
Urine is sterile.
When things get tough, just repeat that to yourself. It helps.
We've been back in Houston for two weeks now, and I've had grandmothers and other family in town for most of that time, so I don't think it really counts. Also, Jacob's work schedule is a little dialed down currently and he's been home more than usual. So mothering two has been relatively smooth sailing so far. There is of course the typical postpartumness: crying at the drop of a hat; raining milk whenever I look at either of my children and most of the time in between; rocking a newborn at all hours of the morning while glaring at my sleeping-soundly husband. (I'm great. GREAT, I tell you, at playing the martyr.) But overall this postpartum period has been ten times more manageable than my last which involved recuperating a broken tailbone and feeling massively incompetent as a mother to a baby who wouldn't stop crying. I didn't believe Jake knew me from Adam until he was eight months old. (I wish I were kidding, but I'm not. That's really how I felt. I suppose that's another story for another
post blog.) I think Lucy June likes me already.
Jake is doing pretty well with the transition, especially since he's getting much more screen time as a result of it. He asks me to put the baby down sometimes and looks at her occasionally, and that's about the extent of it.
Well the little man is trying (and failing) to put a "fuzzy shirt" on my head and the sleeping baby in my arms is quickly waking and deciding that her world is ending or something so...that's my cue...