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Cease & Resist

I went in there to get the IPad. Lovey and I had come to a decision that today was the day we would finish the birth announcement order. As I’ve been finding myself sitting, laying or rocking in small compact areas of our nest of late, I’ve kept the IPad close to maintain some semblance of contact with the outside world. I had saved 16 of my favorite templates on it weeks earlier even though my photo collection lives on another computer. It was a short enough trip away from the task we had started. I was simply going two rooms over to pick the IPad up off my nightstand and return to the office. I passed by our bed and out of instinct looked down and locked eyes with the serenest of little faces who steadily held my gaze. Sugarplum slumbers in her Snugglenest on top of our bed. Square in the middle of where Lovey and I sleep. We had started out with her in a co-sleeper off the side of the bed and managed to keep that up for the first few weeks. Then, she woke up. And she fussed. And I broke out the pacis. She spit it out and fussed some more. So I perfected the burrito effect of my swaddle. And she fussed some more. And I yawned and moved the snugglenest between us where I could prop my face up on pillows next to hers, weight down her gauzy giraffe swaddling blankets with my anchoring arm and breathe in her new baby scent.

It’s that scent that gets me everytime. Everytime I make a list for the day and cross nothing off. Everytime I have an extra coffee to perk me up for the afternoon in vain. Everytime I add a new layer to the Mt. Washmore that lives on the couch in our bedroom and threatens to bury our cat in its avalanche . I breathe in her new baby smell and immediately yawn, stretch and decide a few more minutes of resting with her won’t hurt anything or one.It doesn’t hurt that each friend and family memeber I pass this half-hearted explanation on to for why I haven’t gotten anything done validates me by agreeing that’s all I should be doing right now. Nursing, resting and nursing some more.

That’s what happened to the first 6 weeks of her life and my maternity leave. Happily for us we’ve had a steady stream of family and friends coming to keep the baby held, our bellies filled, our laundry washed, dried and stacked, our trash emptied, our cat’s throw-up wiped away and our children bathed and jammied. And then I woke up. I had a tad more energy this past week and decided I had to get the maternity clothes, the newborn sized onsies and toys put away. I needed to make it past the daily routine of dishes, laundry, milks and trash being managed to actually making an improvement in the nest since our guests left. I need to get the thank-you notes written, the birth announcements created, the gifts tucked away and her birth story written. I would resist the intoxicating new baby smell this week; I was certain.

And then she smiled. She looked me in the eye, her goofy little face scrunched up and she eeked out the tiniest coo and smiled. Zuzu was the first to be gotten by her. After Zuzu talked the first smile out of her last Saturday on the morning of her pre-school graduation, we all kept a vigil looking for signs of our own sweet smiles. Slowly they came, wavering at first, then working their way up to her bright baby blues. Always gentle, fleeting and serene. And the hunt for the illusive smile happily ate up that sixth week.

So today, dear friends, I went in to grab the IPad and when I saw her calm gaze lock on me I did what any number one fan would do. I completely forgot the reason I went in there and started chanting gentle hellos to encourage that little grin. Then I heard the typing stop from the other room and next thing I know, Lovey is there asking if he could have a turn. Then I pulled out the camera and that took up another good bit of time. Then she tired of us, she fussed, I nursed and needed another nap.

And that is the story of our lives and why the blogging has ceased. Maybe, just maybe I’ll be able to resist that heaven-scented grin next week. I wouldn’t put money on it though.

Thoughts?

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