Joy of joys!
When we first took our little monster home (I say that fondly. She's the cutest little monster ever. But if you could hear the dinosaur noises that come out of her when she's trying to find the boob, and the wild, grunting head shaking that accompanies it, you would know ' cute monster' is more than appropriate.) she was still brand new and learning how to be in the world so she would eat and sleep. And that's it. And we were both all, "Oh my gosh, having a baby is easy!" And then we probably followed it up with something as equally stupid like, "Metal jumpsuit. Lightning. Large open field. What could go wrong? Hey Cheryl! Get the camera! We're about to dodge God!"
Once she hit about 2 weeks old she was like, "Oh hey, I can be awake? Awake a lot? Interesting. Lets do this sh&t!" Enter the dark circles under my eyes that makes it look as though I am routinely beaten. By Rocky. And his Russian nemesis.
She'll go from this:
Hi! Oh my gosh I'm gorgeous and cute and I love you Mama.
I HATE BATH TIME!
I'm so sleepy and cute. I love you Mama.
I HATE THIS!
Sorry, that's the same picture, but usually when she's crying I don't have time to snap a loving shot of it. Usually I'm too busy dodging the rocketing poop that accompanies the screams, as well as trying not to get punched in the eye by her extremely strong, flailing limbs.
My point is, apparently babies do not just eat and sleep their whole lives. I should have known this, but apparently I was under the impression they went from eating and sleeping to toddler like magic. Turns out - not so much.
I mean, she's only five weeks old. She's still a teeny tiny little thing. But my god can that woman scream. And unfortunately at 3am when she's being changed and the lights are on and suddenly, out of nowhere she lets out a blood curtling yell all her father and I do is giggle. Because it's so out of the blue and it's so pissed it seems as though we missed something. And then she catches sight of the ceiling fan and all screaming comes to a dead halt.
She loooooooves the ceiling fan.
Sure I'll sit in this car seat, as long as you leave me here right under the fan.
Hey Dad, I'm a little concerned about my fan. Have you seen - oh there it is! Hi fan!
Excuse me Mr. Giraffe? You're not looking at the fan. Any reason why not? Don't be rude.
Hi fan. I love you.
So if you walk by our house at 4am, and catch one of us holding the little lady up to the ceiling like a weird version of the Lion King that is why. Because it calms her down.
It may end up as her crib mobile. I'm just saying.