One Week

"It's been one week since you popped out of me,
cocked your head to the side
and screamed I'm hungry"

Okay, not exactly Bare Naked Ladies, but it could work.

So Little Miss is a week old now, and we're busy adjusting to life with a new baby. (Which is to say, life without sleep and regular hygiene). But it isn't bad. In fact, I'd say it's wonderful. Every day with her is like your best birthday party and Christmas morning and the first day of summer and a trip to Disneyland all rolled into one moment, every moment.

Here's what we've been up to the last 7 days:

Mainly, she sleeps. We do not. And if we do manage to get more than an hour in any one stretch of time, we are very VERY excited about it. You'd think we'd won the lottery. We tell EVERYONE. "I know! Three whole hours two nights ago! Can you believe it? She slept three whole hours! In one block! It was heaven!" Of course, the first night we brought her home, the lack of sleep was my own fault. She slept just fine...I was the one who stayed up all night staring at her. Was she hot? Was she cold? Did her diaper need changing? Was the night-light too bright? I think I totalled about 15 minutes of sleep that first night. By the second and third night, I had delegated shifts so that I could sleep only as long as Tony or my mom watched her. Now I just put her in her cradle, kiss her little forehead goodnight, and fall face-first onto any available flat surface for some precious seconds of shuteye. My goal is to one day hit 4 whole hours of REM sleep in a single night. At this rate, I figure it will happen right about the time she goes to college.

It has come to my attention that my new role is that of the 24/7 buffet. Baby Girl has a tummy the size of a cherry, so it doesn't take much to fill her up, and it doesn't take long for her to empty again. So we nurse A LOT. She likes to eat for about 10 to 20 minutes, roughly every hour. On the one hand, I love the closeness we have during this time. On the other, I've started having dreams where this giant open baby mouth is coming at me every time I turn around. I have birthed a tiny piranha.

Amazingly, this is the part that I thought I would hate the most (because c'mon- another person's poop?) but it turns out that it isn't that bad. I get a strange sense of accomplishment whenever I can give her a freshly wiped and diapered tushie. Mama instinct, I guess. Baby Girl does her part to encourage this feeling by wetting her diaper, waiting until she is freshly wiped and changed and re-dressed and swaddled and therefore buried under roughly 600 layers of clothing and blankey, and then announcing that she now has a poopie diaper. Then we get to do it all again! I get lots of chances for that sense of accomplishment.

We have taken more photos of this child in the last week than most paparazzi shoot in a year. She blinks and a camera goes off. She yawns and flash bulbs explode like fireworks. We have 900 pictures of her making the EXACT. SAME. EXPRESSION posted on facebook for all the world to coo over. Of course, she is the most adorable baby in the world, so it goes without saying. You can't bring this level of adorableness to the table and expect not to have it documented. Plus she's the first child and first grandbaby for my mom's side. So yes, there are pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. I'm just warning you so you'll be prepared for the onslaught. We're at code orange for beautiful baby overload. (Which reminds me. We have the professional photographer coming over tomorrow to do her newborn pictures. Ya'll feel free to send me your order selections).

Man, she just blows me away. She's been sleeping right here in the crook of my arm while I've typed this, and every time I look at her I just want to squeeze her and never let her go. I've never really been a baby person (they freak me out to be honest), but she is just...I can't explain it. It's like when the Grinch's heart suddenly grew three sizes when he returned all the presents to Whoville. Only my heart flew out of my body completely and is now making little cooing noises while it blinks sleepily. She is all sparkles and stars and rainbows wrapped up in a tiny baby body and sprinkled with pixie dust (and butt paste and baby lotion).

And she's worth a million dirty diapers and midnight feedings and hours of lost sleep. I will pay that and consider myself the luckiest person in the world because she is here.