So, I decided to drive the Bubba to his annual work golf outing this afternoon. I thought the car ride would get a good nap out of Lucy and it would feel to me like I was "doing something" - as in, not chained to the rocking chair alternating between breast feeding and rocking a sleeping baby. As a nice side effect, the Bubba and I had 40 minutes together while we were both awake and while Lucy was occupied. We had a (gasp!) conversation!
I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of a Daddy's role. I mean, the Bubba plays basketball once a week, goes golfing, goes to work, and doesn't think twice about it. He doesn't think about how the baby's going to eat or sleep while he's gone. His life doesn't seem to have changed all that much. Mine? Whoa. I spend 90% of my waking hours in a rocking chair. I eat what's easy to grab with one hand. I sleep not at all while the baby's awake even when it's the Bubba's "shift" with Lucy. I've even gone to the bathroom with Lucy on my lap because I can't stand to hear her scream when I put her down.
At the same time, I have a special relationship with this little person that I absolutely revel in. I get to notice all of her new developments. Like focusing her eyes - that just happened on Sunday. She looked at me, made eye contact, and I was all "Hey, girl, nice to meet you" because it seemed like she was seeing me for the first time. Pretty amazing. I can tell now (more or less) whether she's crying because she's hungry or because she's working on a diaper load. And if the Bubba can't figure out what's wrong, he'll ask me. Like I know. But I guess, if you spend 24 hours with someone for 3 weeks, you're expected to have learned something.
Every day the changes seem to affect me a little more and I realize a little more deeply that I actually have a baby. That's mine. That's here to stay.