Or, you know, there will be a lot of this:
So many snuggles.
(And, proceed with caution, because so many pictures.)
I call this one "Portrait of Motherhood." At first glance, it's a beautiful sleeping babe snuggled on her mother's chest. No cares. No worries. Just perfection. But upon closer inspection, you see mom's morning vice in the form of sweet, sweet Coca-Cola. There's a brush on the table from where mom combed the knots from her older daughter's hair. There are (count them) three laundry baskets, and a pile of too-small PJ's stacked in the floor. And in the background sit two orange corduroy beanbags that will quickly surpass the $40 bouncy seat in popularity.
It's blurry, and it's dark. The focus is off, and it's still one of my favorite pictures. I read about the Moro Reflex this week: in reaction to a feeling of falling, infants instinctively throw their hands to their sides, then clutch them to their chests and cry. It is believed that this reflex developed so that infants will instinctively reach for their mothers when they feel insecure. Those tiny fingers find their way to my collar more often than not; tiny scratches dot my shoulders where little nails have dug in. And someday, I'll forget all of this--until I see this picture.
And seriously,
the closets will organize themselves,
or not,
but we have so very many snuggles
in this family:
kisses,
proud moments, and
just
so
many snuggles in this first month.
We've done important things too; city elections matter. Get out and vote! Bets voted when she was 8 days old--what's your excuse?
We haven't been to Reno, Wichita, or Chicago, but we've been to Oklahoma City. Bets can sing right along with Johnny Cash after one month, "I've been everywhere, man, I've been everywhere."
We've been to Sam's Club and soccer fields, swimming pools, and field trips, restaurants, waiting rooms, churches, and museums. We've changed diapers on public changing tables (the third child is so different), car seats, beds, floors, and playgrounds. I've nursed a baby on a folding chair, a lawn chair, the ground, and in the swagger wagon. We've been everywhere!
Soccer fields.
Just because she's silly; and we really did go to sister's gymnastics class.
Bets was nursing. In a folding chair. In a room full of people. So we focused on Gigi.
School parties.
School drop-off.
Church. This is also a favorite. My place. My people.
Bets craved onion burgers, hold the onions, the entire pregnancy, so we celebrated with friends at three weeks. Goodness, three weeks and out at restaurants--number three is different.
So many soccer practices.
We had a tea party with big sissy.
And dyed Easter eggs (and the kitchen table).
We parked it.
Playgrounded it.
Sun shine-dayed it.
We fire-safetied it.
Rode it.
Drew it.
Family-ed it.
And field tripped it.
And somehow, we still found time for just a few more:
Bets toots like a freight train. Her brother thinks it's hilarious. Probably too much information, but if you've stuck with me this long, you're clearly a friend who doesn't care about too much information.
She does cry. I did pick her up seconds following this picture.
She's adorable, right?
Here's a secret: she's pooping.
And she found it pretty funny.
She's got a sense of humor.
So do I.
This? This was taken at approximately 11 p.m. I take the same photo every night because every night she's awake at 11 p.m.
Just because--baby.
Baby toes.
And baby nose.
Baby baths.
And baby naps.
Baby belly.
And baby...Yoda? Monkey? I'm not sure, but I love this face.
Baby yawns.
And just
simply
baby.
As far as GETTING THINGS DONE? Laundry. I've done laundry. It turns out, that's what happens in a month.
