And I'm here to confirm that delayed zazoo? In my very scientific experiment of motherhood? That growing vs. automatic zazoo? Its totally normal.
I haven't had the motherhood crazies that I was so terrified of. I spent the last two trimesters of my pregnancy with AH worrying about these first eight weeks.
At the end of the day? Robbie was a good baby. We were so spoiled. He slept through the night EARLY. VERY VERY EARLY. He probably slept through the night because he was starving, but that's neither here nor there.
But we weren't allowed to talk about it because rule number one of the Motherhood Fight Club, "do not discuss the sleep" because the minute you discuss the sleep, everything goes to hell.
So we are due for a tough baby.
Robbie is baby Shawn. He's toddler Shawn. He's sunshiny and laid back and cheerful. Smiley and chatty and just a genuine pleasure to be around most of the time.
So Anna Helen is bound to be more like me... right? High strung. Worrisome. High expectations, high demands.
So far, she's not most of those things.
We do have a VERY long witching hour. Starting at about 6:30 she gets the extreme grumpies. Sometimes it lasts for four hours. Sometimes for six. It can get trying, but all she's doing is clusterfeeding to tank up for the night. The first four hours, I can do. But hours five and six I start to lose my freaking mind.
And then the "I have a newborn and it is nighttime" dread sets in. That not wanting to close your eyes to go to sleep because you have no idea what kind of night is ahead of you.
The nights are never as bad as they could be.
I have the luxury of being able to nap during the days (even if I am never able to).
But I just don't love the newborn days. That's the long and short of it.
Neither of my kids are cuddlers. They don't want to be held. Don't want to be snuggled. Don't want any of those cute newborn things that others experience.
The newborn smell? Kind of smells like a mix of spit up and wet diaper to me.
And like a bunch more laundry I'm going to have to do.
And I'm still zazooing for the Robster. He's just so... fun... at this age. He's picking up new words. He's loving anything he can stack and build. He thinks that balloons are the most amazing thing he has ever seen in his life.
This week? DOORS. DOORS ARE UNBELIEVEABLE. "A door", "A do'"... over and over and over.
And you feel like such a schmoe for thinking "ok, we just need to get through these days". Newborn parenting is a lot of surviving, and not a lot of enjoying.
The then you get one of these SMILES. A total Tyra-would-be-proud-smize.
You can't WAIT for her to notice you. Follow you around the room with her eyes.
She totally gives you the best smiles. I mean, right now, you are the "milk lady". Furry guy as we call him? He's great and all. But holy shit, there's MOM!
Zazoo. Part two.
Times two.
Yoda Robbie says: "Days are short. Waste them not."
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