(Adorable "Little Monster" onsie courtesy of Emily)
My Jiggity-Jack is one month old already, can you believe it? Because I can't. This month has been a serious blur.
We're still not quite sure what to call this man-child. I love my baby's name, and I love my boy, but I have a really hard time associating the two with each other for some reason. I call him Baby Boy or Baby Brudder, Buddy or The Dude. We only decided on his name maybe a couple hours before he was born. My dad's name was Jon. And we both liked the idea of honoring him. (We opted for the more conventional spelling.) And Ignatius is after the Bubba's Grandpa Iggy. We really like this family connection thing. It's so different than how we named Lucy. (You like Lucy? Yeah. You? Yeah. Ok!) But! What will we call him? We were/are pretty sold on Jack, but then...we could call him Johnny! Or Iggy! And when I do call him by a name, John is usually the first thing that comes out. Lucy is convinced that his name is Baby Jack, though, and will correct me when I call him John or Ig. Ah well! Something will stick in the not-so-distant future.
This baby is a complete cuddle monkey. Well, that's a nice way to put it. We tease that he likes to be right next to the Source (my chest) at all times. In fact, he'd prefer to have constant unfettered access whether or not he's hungry thankyouverymuch. But I do have to draw the line somewhere, and I opt for decency and the potential to leave the house. He's awake and alert for an hour and a half at a time these days, and most of that time I spend walking around our circular floor plan with him. God forbid I set this kid down. I don't know how I haven't lost all thousand pounds I gained being pregnant with him just from the miles I''m walking around my house... He prefers the Bjorn to the Moby (which is disappointing since the Moby's more comfy for me!) and is more than content to spend every moment of the day either plugged into his Source or strapped on right next to it. I've gotten pretty good at getting things done around here with one hand, with a baby strapped to me, or with passionate screaming in the background.
"Are you getting any sleep?" The short answer: some. He had his nights and days screwed up for the first few weeks, which was less than fun, but now he's straightened himself out a bit. We wake up twice a night, usually at 12ish and 3ish, and otherwise sleep from 9:30 to 6am or so. And usually Jack just needs a dipe, meal, burp, bed. It's not that bad a gig, but hoo boy, it's catching up to me! Especially with this mastitis setback, I've been seriously wishing I could "sleep when the baby sleeps."
When he does deign to sleep in his bassinet, he much prefers to sleep on his stomach. So I let him. (Judge away, people!) But because of that, instead of a bald patch in the back of his head, John is losing the hair on the sides! Hee! And for all the Get The Toddler Outside As Much As Possible hat wearing that he does, it's coming out at the top too. So basically the only place he has much hair is in the back. It's the most committed mullet I've ever seen.
Mostly he's awesome. And Lucy's doing well; she swings from ambivalence to violent affection to curiosity/wanting to help. It works out. So far, I'm still kind of scared to leave the house and do errands with two kids. That's not to say I haven't done it. But I'm just sure John will blow out or be starving in the middle of groceries and Lucy will run away and hide in the aisles and CPS will be waiting for me in the parking lot. So, you know, we've been taking baby steps. A walk to the park here, a trip to pick up diapers there.
Life is slowly getting a little easier as we all get used to each other's schedules and quirks.