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I’ve been a mother for 12 weeks and 6 days.

Who is that tiny baby? I barely recognize her.

What’s better than I expected:

  • When she looks at me and knows I’m her mama – bonus points for smiles when she sees me.
  • When we’re “talking” – I’m making sounds and she’s trying to mimic them. It’s like connecting with extra-terrestrials.
  • Watching her discover things – that she has hands, that she can use those hands to bat at her toys, the look on her face as we stroll outside.
  • My excitement about her first Christmas – cannot WAIT to get that girl a stocking on the mantel.
  • My parents as grandparents – they’re even more incorrigible than I anticipated. I love every second!
  • The spiritual lessons I’m learning – too numerous to count.

What’s worse than I expected:

  • Guilt. I feel guilty about everything – When I mess up her schedule. When I wake her up to eat. When I give her the horrid-tasting vitamin supplement. When I can’t change her clothes fast enough to keep her warm. When she scratches herself because I haven’t cut her fingernails in the past hour (they grow so fast!). And so much more.
  • Hormones. I’m playing with a theory – and I’m not saying this as a cliche – that hormones are a tool of the Evil One. They lie to me. Regularly. See above.
  • The feeling I get when she’s really wailing. Not just fussy, not bored, but angry. It’s bad enough when it’s because she’s getting a shot, but it’s much, much worse when I don’t know the reason.
  • When her schedule is messed up / changed / otherwise impaired. The wheels seem to come off. I heart Babywise.

[Hee hee … new category … yay!]

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