On this blog, on life in general if we're being honest.
Sweet Baby Ruth is 9 weeks old today. He's a nugget who enjoys in this particular order: boobs, pacifiers, extreme swaddling, the occasional bottle, and snuggling all the live long day. I'm deeply in love with him. Deeply. He's been smiling and making those baby sounds that are like napalm melting my face off because OH MY GOSH HE'S SMILING AND GURGLING AND I CAN'T TAKE IT!!!!!!!
Stand down, Mother.
It's taken me a week to write this post because my brain is broken and the only writing I do is for other people, mos def not for myself. I feel out of practice with this whole thing. Someday soon I'll catch up and write about the morning I brought another human being in the the world, again. Because it was amazing and it's over already and I feel a teensy bit sad about it because I don't know if I'm having any more babies, and maybe that's why my world is so wrapped up in this one. I can't quit him in the least bit. The other two are equal parts exhausting and just really awesome. 3 and 5 are some good ages (but 4 is probably still my favorite). Brothers are the best though, right? I love having boys. So much, so much.
I know that I'm tired every night, and I'm really happy. Having three kids is bonkers in all the right ways. My life is still sporadically crappy and average by some standards and almost always stressful, but I'm assuming it's that way for everyone so no top of the podium for me. I think maybe the trick is having a baby with a fuzzy head and blue blue eyes to make everything all better.
You should try it.
|Ruthie, 8 weeks|