*Warning: There are a lot of “boobie” references in this post.”
*This “mommy” gig is no joke.
*Nursing is also no joke.
*I also think it’s pitiful…bless him.
*Wonders how he knows to poop…right after I change his diaper.
*I also wonder how he knows to wake up…as soon as I fall asleep.
*Pretty sure my breast pump talks to me in the middle of the night.
*Hoping that one piece bathing suits are all the rage this summer.
*Thinks one thousand baby smooches a day are still not enough.
*Thinks health insurance should pay for weekly massages for breast feeding moms.
*Wonders if there is anything that I CAN eat that WON’T give him gas…poor fella.
*Thinks it’s super cute when he toots in his sleep. Not so much when the hubby does the same.
*Thankful for my husband…he surprises me daily with his awesomeness.
*Thinking about changing his name to “Boobie Terrorist”. (The baby, not my husband.)
*Not sure why I even bother putting on a shirt every day.
*Still bewildered that God entrusted a tiny person to me.
*Thinks it is crazy that his life literally depends on me. Ohhh…no big deal.
*Can’t remember what it feels like to have a pregnant belly, so I made a little display in the nursery using some of my baby bump pics I shared on Instagram.
*Sometimes secretly wishes him back inside my belly…when it was waaay easier. Then, I wish I could karate chop myself in the throat for thinking such thoughts.
*Ready to get my squats on.
*Not sure which one I am obsessed with more…his smell or his itty bitty feet.
*Am pretty sure I am too old to have babies. My body curses me every day.
*Trying to stop saying, “I can’t wait until…” and really enjoy the now.
*Hopes he grows to love the Lord.
*Hopes he loves me as much as I love him.
I have a funny story to tell. We had his first doctors appointment the day after we came home from the hospital. It also happened to be the day after I almost starved him due to my milk not coming in. He cried all night long and all that morning. We get to the doctors office and I tell Craig to run in and fill out paperwork while I attempt to nurse him again. I give it about 5 minutes and he settles down. I bundle him up in a blanket and make my way inside. I get halfway to the elevator when I think…”Oh…crap. Did I pull my shirt back down?” The answer my friends…is no. No I did not pull my shirt back down after nursing.
I hope that you enjoyed the first installment of Confessions from a Frazzled New Mom.
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