As you do

Life has a funny way of kicking you in the head.

And apparently Facebook does too.

After a week-long-what-Im-calling-growth-spurt-and-not-the-normal-I-hope-in-our-decent-for-a-newborn-sleep-patterns, I log on to Facebook.

And 4 am.

You know, as you do.

See a friend who had a "on this day", and clicked on the "See Your Memories".

You know, as you do.

(Not downloading the app of course because, you know, you don't do)

And I get this gem:

 

 

Yup.  Giving it all away, two years ago.   You know, because we were done having kids.

 

As you do.

 

I realized last week when three separate close friends mentioned something in passing that most don't know that James isn't a "thank goodness we were born in the day and time where this science is available" kind of kid.

 

I'm impressed that our friends think that we'd bring a kid into the world with everything we had going on in the last year.

 

Jobs, money, family and all.

 

But hey, here we are.

 

And I've moved pretty comfortably from "What the hell are we going to do???"

 

(I think I was saying that up until we left the hospital.)

 

I'm not joking.  I should have trademarked that phrase.  It was the motto of this pregnancy.

 

(That isn't Southernizing the story.  I was saying it.  Daily.  From ye old HOLY CRAP THIS PREGNANCY TEST IS POSITIVE, THIS HAS NEVER EVER HAPPENED moment until, well, 7ish weeks ago).

 

I'm an infertility fraud apparently.  

 

We need to change our family motto to "Expect the Unexpected" (Can someone translate that into Latin for this year's family's t-shirt?)

 

But I think we are going to make it.

 

We're surviving. Doing even better than surviving.

 

I still can't believe there's another player in the game.

 

But so far, we are so cliche, but I can't imagine our family without him.

 

(PS I wanted to punch all of you in the face when you said this to me during pregnancy,  You know, because, HOLY SH&T).)

 

  His siblings are doing great with him. 

 

He has broken 13 lbs and isn't even 7 weeks old.

 

He thinks the fan is the most mindblowing un-effing-believable thing he's ever seen.

 

Daisy is a close second.

 

He is a hot sweatbox, and full of baby acne and dandruff.  (Just rub a little breastmilk on that).

 

He is smiley and adaptable and hangry and clusterfeedy and terribly gassy, and has terrible timing on being THE HUNGRIEST ANGRIEST BABY IN THE UNIVERSE when I just need five minutes to pick up another kid, feed a family, park a car, etc. 

 

But I can't imagine our family without him.

 

So carry on.

 

As you do.