metaphortunate: (cocaine is bad)
"The parent picked up the tissue. 'No! Do not wipe me!' wept the baby. But he was baby, and so he would be wiped. Such is the way with babies."
metaphortunate: (Default)
My boobs got jetlagged. The Junebug eats more during the day than at night, right? Except there's nine hours between here & London. So last week I got way less than usual when I pumped during the day and then at night got distressingly full. Boob lag. It's not a thing you think of in advance.

I knew babies were born helpless, but I did not understand just how helpless. It's not even just that they can't control their limbs. When they're just born they don't even know how to have limbs. It freaks them the fuck out. Imagine having four intense sensory apparatuses that flail around semirandomly giving you uncontrollable unparseable information and hitting you in the face. So we swaddle them. The Junebug is learning, though. Should anyone ever ask him later in life if he's ever looked at his hands, I mean really looked at his hands? The answer is yes. He stares and stares at them and turns them around and flexes them. It's amazing. You can see the mind learning to use the waldoes.

Here is a thing where I am already doing what my mom does. I have finally managed to convince my mom that I don't want her to send me inspirational Powerpoint email forwards and won't open them if she does. This means that when she sends them to me, she includes the message that she knows I don't like them but she thought she would send it to me because it's really good and I can just delete it if I want to. Similarly, I know that the Junebug is still not into hugs or kisses. He doesn't dislike them, but they don't do anything for him. Which means that when I kiss him - and that happens a lot - there is a lot of baby talk along the lines of "Oh nooo! The baby is getting kissed again! Why are all these kisses happening to the baby!"

I realize that in fact I am teaching him that when he gets hugged and kissed he will think the thing to do is say "Oh noooo!"

It's weird, though, the consent thing. It weirds me out that he does not and indeed cannot consent to hugs and kisses, and I do them anyway. Same with diaper changes. Same with, well, everything in his life right now. And from the other end, yes I made the decision to breastfeed, and I can give him formula if I want to, but that's kind of academic; the reality is that when he cries I pull out the boobs even if I really don't feel like it.

Although he smiled when he was getting his tummy nibbled on this evening! Maybe we are Stockholming him into liking affection. Mwahahaha.

When we hold him up in the air and jiggle him around his face is the definition of :D it's great. It's not his purest smile. He has a smilier smile. The up-in-the-air face is a mouth wide open in disbelief that something so awesome is happening to him that he almost can't even process it. And for some reason it breaks my heart that it's so simple to make him happy. Why? That's not bad! Why does it make me feel like crying?

Sometimes I feel like I should do the things that I know would make me miserable because at least I know what would happen if I did them. Right now I have no idea what my choices are going to do to us.

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metaphortunate son

February 2017

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