Being Mom.

At some point, I quit washing AJ's clothes separately. I'm liberally using up the last bottle of baby detergent. I know the free & clear we use will be just fine.

I don't pump as much as I used to because I nurse her almost exclusively. For purposes of obtaining some sleep, Aaron will give her a bottle either early in the morning or middle of the night this week. But if it doesn't happen everyday, I know we'll be fine. I might be tired, but I don't have any complaints.

I don't bathe her every night on a schedule. In fact, I don't bathe her at night at all. Usually I'm tired and I just can't. She gets her baths late mornings. I am sure we'll get to that whole schedule thing soon, but for right now I know what to do around 8pm every night. She lead me to it.

And somehow, I'm the only one who didn't get the memo that I would become this attachment-y, organic-y kind of mom. I knew I'd wear her (which only recently became tolerable for everyone), and nursing has been great... but everything else? Occasional bed-sharing and some nights in her mini-crib in the bedroom with us? Feeding on demand 5 months into it? Researching her preschool education options, and wondering how I can determine her "learning style" early on? Please. This is all ludicrous. Really. Admitting I have a problem is the first step to recovery.

But there's not a recovery for this. I'm a mother for the rest of my life. I've really enjoyed getting to know this side of me. For a long time, I didn't trust that it could happen. Apparently, it's quite normal to think that you won't be a good mother before it happens and to be shocked when you are. I don't know how all this actually unfolds, I just know that one day I went from being really concerned to actually just doing it.

And it's the loveliest thing I've ever done.

4 Months. Plus.

You're getting this picture because I refuse to post one of the reason why I was drinking wine the other night. I also promised myself I wouldn't post poop pictures, because I didn't like that before I had the kid. Anyway, I was running to the shower with a baby wrapped in a disposable changing pad and screamng, "My baby is covered in SHIT!" It was actually running down her leg while she happily bounced in her play jumper thingie.

This parenthood thing... is not exactly hard. It's just new. Amazing, brand-new wonderful stuff. She's filling out and looking more like a chubby cherub baby every day. And every day she does new stuff. Today she started grabbing things I moved in front of her face. Everything is fascinating for all of us. 

No one ever tells you this stuff. The shit. Literally and figuratively. How irrational you become when it comes your kid, and what you want to do for her. Protect. Teach. Soothe. Encourage.

We had her 4-month check-up with shots today, and I surprised myself by holding her through it. I nursed right afterwards, and she was smiley in just a few minutes. I think the leg pain set in after a little play at home, so she's currently down after long cuddles and half a dose of Tylenol. I don't go for medicine even second or third on the list of things to try, but it was plain to see she was in pain. I didn't have to hear her cry for an hour to know where her tears were coming from.

And that's the beauty of motherhood to me- knowing these things with my gut. I didn't think it'd be like this... that I'd just know. I didn't think my magic would happen. I don't think giving birth equates to instant carnal knowledge, so for some reason I discounted my abilities. I just didn't think I'd get it.

It's the loveliest thing in the world.