Saturday, May 19, 2012

a day in the life- may 2012

Ella Grace is three weeks old today and , although I realize I am ridiculously biased, I must say I think she is the best. baby. EVER.

She's just, well, easy.

I needed me an easy baby, y'all.

I was a little concerned at first since she had this bizarre preference for nursing only on the right side. When I say preference, what I really mean is she screamed and hollered and refused to latch on at all on the left side until I resorted to pumping to relieve the excruciating pain that is engorgement. This lovely phase was followed by her latching incorrectly- I swear she did it on purpose- until a tiny part of me huddled in the fetal position every time she nursed on that side. {Okay, the fetal position is a stretch, but I really did hold my breath, curl my toes, and willed myself not to pass out. And lest there is some crunchy, knowledgeable lactavist reading this who is clicking her tongue and reciting the mantra, "Breastfeeding does not hurt", bite me, okay?}

Alright, I apologize. Insulting lactavists is not my ultimate goal here. But bear with me: I've breastfed NINE babies now. A couple of them I nursed until they were toddlers. Some babies are a breeze to nurse and others take a bit more work. Ella made me work for it. :)

We are off and running now. She is chunking up in all the right places making her the epitome of baby squishiness. She is cuddly and contented and what I refer to as my Mary Poppins baby- "Practically perfect in every way."

But, um. Did I mention she likes to nurse? Yeah, she does. And that means I spend a lot of time sitting, rocking, or laying down with her attached to my body. This leaves me a lot of time for reading, praying, singing- and sometimes I even manage to knit or write in my journal, though I confess this is a bit of a balancing act and I frequently have to set it down- but much less time for being on the computer, housework, cooking, etc.

I am infinitely grateful that my husband can cook. Just tonight, he made fish tacos that weretodiefor. The older boys do a decent job with dishes and laundry, only occasionally falling behind. And even then, my personality is such that I just take it in stride, most of the time.

Take tonight for instance. I let my oldest kiddos go to a neighborhood birthday party. That left me alone with my four youngest. And Ella wanted to nurse. A lot. So I spent more time trying to convince my other three to sit on the couch and watch just one more episode of Diego {please?!} so I could finish feeding their sister than sanity could stand. When all was said and done, the kids were home- and dirty- so I started cycling them all through the showers and getting them ready for bed. And when that was all done, I was sweaty and gross myself and looking forward to my own shower.

Except. {There's always an *except*, is there not?} There were no more clean towels. Not one. I pondered this dilemma and then finally shrugged and got into the shower. I was hoping a brilliant idea would come to me once I was in there, all soaped up and smelling like Herbal Essences shampoo instead of spit up and sweat. But alas, no great epiphany graced me tonight- I used a burp cloth to dry off. I'm actually serious. It was a *clean* burp cloth, but still. When all was said and done, I was still a bit on the damp side. But I shrugged and put on my jammies and called it good. That's how I roll, people.

Speaking of Ella, she is waking up as I type and I am assuming she wants a late night snack. What can I say? Like mother like daughter. I am not ashamed to admit I make my husband keep ice cream in the frige solely for us to eat together once he gets home from work- which is between eleven o'clock and midnight, most nights. Yes, I have read the reports that say you should not eat after 9 p.m. I think it goes without saying that if you do, it should probably not be cherry cheesecake Bluebell ice cream. But again, that's how I roll. I have no misconceptions about whether or not I will be wearing size 6 jeans.

In my mind, skinny jeans are overrated, whereas eating ice cream with your best friend who you're still crazy enough about to wait up for at night- that's pretty stinkin cool.

So if you'll excuse me for now, I'm off to feed my cherub baby and then wait up for my hunky hubby. All while wearing damp pjs.


~amy danielle


  1. So pleased you are getting on well - superb job, life sounds good, Praise God!

  2. "I used a burp cloth to dry off."
    Heee.... not just me then :)
    And I agree with you, icecream definitly beats skinny jeans!

    1. Oh Suzy- you make me feel sane. {Quite a feat, I must say- and actually, maybe I ought to worry about you...} {wink}


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