What do we do all day?

And where do the days go? Laurel is a night owl. She tends to be pretty active until 2 or 3 in the morning, and then will sleep for long stretches until 10 or 11. This makes the days blur into each other and overlap. Breakfast is served late. I wear pajamas all day unless we have to go somewhere. We sit in the big chair in her room and nurse and nap and nap and nurse. I put on Pandora radio. Laurel likes M. Ward and Bon Iver. She sleeps best when cradled in my arms, or tucked in a swaddle, stretched out next to me. We call her the Caterpillar when she is wrapped up like that. When she is ready to start waking up, she flexes her legs and wiggles her way out of the swaddle. Last night, she hardly cried, just made little cooing noises that I somehow anticipated and woke up to hear before she made them. She stared at me in the dim light at 5 am with enormous blue eyes, lined with long lashes that are most definitely from M. Her eyes flicker back and forth when she falls asleep and little gas bubble smiles appear at her lips. She fusses and squrims and begs to nurse continuously in the late afternoon, and through the prime time television line up. M carries her in a wrap, pacing through the house. Eventually, she falls asleep and I seize the opportunity to take a hot shower.

I feel like I can manage anything if I get a hot shower every day.

And that's it. The day starts over. She is one day older. One ounce fatter. I love her ten times more.

1 comment:

Joe said...

Hi Katy,
You brought back some really good memories. Heather, Lisa and Eric were a pleasure as babies and still are as young adults. Aunt Donna and I play with our 18 four old's each week at Little Church and relive some of those memories. Thanks for jogging my mind.
Uncle Joe