The miracle of life is really about surviving the miracle of life. The last three months have been a blur of diapers, bottles, breastfeeding (attempting too....don't get me started) and occasionally sleep. Our daughter was 1 month early and considering how miserable I was during month 9 it was sort of a blessing that she came early. Of course it's easy to say that now because we survived Hellp Syndrome, an emergency caesarian, and bringing home a 3 lb 15 ounce baby. I mean talk about tiny. There should seriously be some sort of permit or test or background check by the FBI required to bring home something that small.
She's much larger now and more opinionated. It's really quite shocking how big a baby can get in 3 months. How big you ask? How that heck should I know! I don't even know when I showered last. It's true I don't. I should be mortified but I don't stink so it's a win-win as far as I'm concerned. Anyway I digress, I know she's at least 10 lbs or more and that her head has got to be at least 5 lbs because it hurts like hell when she smacks into my chin with it.
As I'm trying to type this cat #2 is walking back and forth on my lap to remind me that he needs dinner. That is one thing I will never forget...they won't let me. These cats are not subtle. I have the scratch marks to prove it. We feed them 3 times a day. So it's not like they are starving, of course if they could speak I'm sure a profanity filled argument would commence in which they staunchly disagree with me.
So in these first 3 months of parenthood I've learned that my cats and baby, in that order, are the masters now. I am here to do their bidding and sometimes I enjoy it.
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