So Far, So Good

Still no name for the little bugger. Hmmmm. . . "Bugger". Seriously, that's how bad it's gotten around here name-wise. I'm about ready to build a sweat lodge in the backyard and force Katie to go on a vision quest: "It'll be fine, Honey. I'll watch the kids. Here, take this peyote."

And you can see how not having a name is traumatizing our new friend. Sometimes, he'll just be laying there, mouth on boob, he's drifting off to sleep, then he snaps awake to suckle a bit more. You can totally tell he would've just fallen asleep blissfully otherwise: "Mmmmm. Tummy full of milk; so warm in blanket; feeling slee. . . . Agh! No name!!!" Please send money now to help this poor child.

We're only on, what, day three or four here? It's too early to discern any patterns or potential issues. He does seem to be a bit of a lackadaisical breast-feeder. He'll get on there just fine but after a minute, he gets this look on his face that says: "Huh, I know I'm supposed to being doing something here but I can't quite remember what. And these people are looking at me like I should be doing something. Well, I guess I'll just hang out with this thing in my mouth and try to look cool: "Hi, how are ya?" When he's not looking around nervously with a nipple in his mouth - and, really, who hasn't been there?! Rimshot! - he's drifting off to sleep.

The few times he's been persnickety, the patented "daddy becomes a car seat swinging machine" system seems to do the trick. Lemme tellya, there's nothing like standing in the dark, holding yourself up with one hand on a door frame and the other swinging a car seat with a screaming baby in it. Joys of parenting!