3 weeks post-partum

Informal bathroom scale measurements put James at just about 11 pounds this afternoon. That's about 90th percentile for baby boys his age. I can literally see his fingers getting fatter every day.

He's still a generally pleasant baby: calm when he's awake, eating every 2-3 hours day and night, and generally content as long as he's part of the action and moved frequently. He doesn't generally sleep much during the day, though. Maybe 10-minute naps here and there. He'll pass out, then wake up for a series of unproductive grunts and straining, followed by a brief cry for attention. Then when I pick him up, he's awake and cheerful and seemingly well-rested.

Nights are decent. He seems to pass out pretty quickly after each feeding, except when I eat something offensive to his gut. Last night was one of those nights. He ate every 4 hours, but took an hour of grunting and straining and fussing before settling back to sleep each time. Ugh.

The best news is, though, that my pain is almost completely gone. If I don't do too much physically, and as long as people are helping with meals and occasional childcare, I think we've reached our first fragile equilibrium. It's a good place to be right now: Robert is returning to his normal self and I'm finding new coping strategies for James' needs and my needs. It's fragile. Any new illness or change in the kids will upset what we have right now *sigh*. I've been a handwashing freak all week. If you sniff a little too loud or too often, I'm keeping my distance from you and keeping track of everything you've touched. Argh! That's part of my sleep deprivation craziness. Please don't take it personally.

Things will change, dang it, and I know that. I'm just trying to enjoy the relative rhythm we've just barely found.

Robert and James seem to be resting right now, so I'm off to lie down, too.