Six weeks.

Your fifth week was a blur, full of new skills on your part... it was Friday before we knew it. Our daily rhythm centers around your needs and is subject to change from moment to moment. Our mornings are spent slowly greeting the day after saying goodbye to your Pop when he leaves the house at 7:00 am. You eat and we both fall asleep again. We wake in earnest at 8:30 to be changed and start our day. I make the bed while you hold your rattle- a new talent! I pop you into whichever carrier suits us that morning and we let the animals romp in the yard while enjoying some cold air. It's good for our lungs. I wear you while I make breakfast and tidy up, while folding clothes and diapers, while walking the dog- a first for us this week. You seem to enjoy the view from my level and fall asleep easily smooshed against my chest. The day proceeds and I find snippets of time to accomplish basic tasks. Sometimes Mimi comes over and you sleep in her lap while I vacuum. You probably remember the noise from the womb while I do this and you never wake up. Later, you spend more and more time contently awake and even put yourself back to sleep one afternoon with the aid of your left thumb. 

You eat like a horse these days and I find myself on the couch with you at least every hour. Late in the afternoon after you drift off I eat lunch and you nap next to me or in my lap. I won't pretend that there hasn't been food dropped on your head. You like to sleep on your tummy and I let you, even though all the books say this is the worst thing you can do, ever. But they say that about everything. We watch TV after lunch- the X-Files or a movie seen a hundred times. Pop walks in the door at 4:15 and we are all excited to see him. We sit down on the couch together and watch you grow.

Night comes quickly. Sometimes we go out, walking to a new restaurant where you are pretty much always the topic of conversation, but mostly we stay in. You hang out with Pop while I make dinner and we take turns changing you, rocking you, walking around in circles. We eat with you in one arm and our plate in the other. You eat and eat and eat. And then we look down to realize you're out like a light and into the bed we go. You don't wake up until almost daylight, giving us only the occasional grunt in the middle of the night that means "change me!" or "boob please!" During your first few weeks I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for some karmic sudden sleeplessness to come crashing down on us, punishment for all the torture I put my own parents through. I've stopped holding my breath though. 

Our current parenting philosophy (if there is such a thing)... once we find something that keeps you happy we just do that thing until it doesn't work anymore. Luckily for us you are just plain happy most of the time. Keep those smiles coming, we're basking in their glow.