I know you people don't care, but we are in Phase II of Operation: Deswaddle. Phase I was one arm out. Now it's two arms out. Phase III will be no swaddle at all. That's next week.
I was shocked last night when she went to sleep on her own with both arms out. I thought this was going to be a battle. It took her a few extra minutes to settle down, but it was just intermittent bleats for about ten minutes. Tonight it's more of the same. Oh, and she found her thumb. I went in to wake her up this morning (yes, I had to wake her up), and she was sucking her thumb. This is odd because when she's a wake she tries SO HARD to get that thumb in there and is always poking herself in the eye or punching herself in the forehead instead.
I didn't know it was possible to have a baby easier than Grace.
If the trend continues, I will next give birth to a bean bag.
James is going away for a week pretty soon. Even with the two easiest babies in the entire world, I'm dreading it. Evenings are the hardest time of day; it's when Emmy's naps are the shortest and least reliable, it's when Emmy is the closest to grouchy she ever gets, it's when I have to get dinner together with a needy toddler hanging off my leg, it's when I'm completely worn out and short on patience. Feh.
Well, the first time he went away after Grace was born was nowhere near as hard as I'd expected, so maybe it will be that way this time.
When I was sick a few weeks ago, James was doing pretty much all the household work plus his own work for the last day and a half. He was ready to stay home from a birthday party that weekend, but he needed a break, and all I had was a stupid cold anyway.
I was dreading it. I felt like my limbs were made of hummus, and my face was packed with more of the same. So that night was not looking to be super awesome fun time with two small humans.
But! It was easy. I gave Grace a bath, Emmy stayed pretty content all on her own. Both of them went to bed without a fuss, and I laid in bed the rest of the evening
Really, life with two kids this small is not anywhere near as difficult as I'd imagined. I'm sure there will be another period of adjustment once Emmy gets mobile, but even that will be fine once I adapt.
I'm so scatterbrained and naturally lazy that I pictured a chaos-filled household, miserable children, and an alcoholic me. But it's been very good for me. I've fallen into a schedule of sorts that keeps me moving all morning, keeps the house clean, the kids happy(ish, most of the time), and homemade dinners on the table. I get a 40-minute workout every afternoon (when it's not twelve thousand degrees in here), and then have the rest of the day free to spend with family, or do a little extra picking up, or go for a walk, or whatever.
I'm more worn out by the end of the day, and it's much harder to get out of the house now, but I'd say, on the whole, I'm better off now than I was with just Grace. Having two of them keeps me on my toes, keeps me from lazing around all day. It's nice.
Speaking of working out, DUDE. STILL HAVE NOT LOST WEIGHT. I blame the breastfeeding. For most of the day, I'm not that hungry. For breakfast I'll have oatmeal, yogurt, and a banana, or something like it, and then not be hungry again until one or two. Even if I do get hungry, it doesn't bother me that much. I can wait until I have more time to throw something together.
And then evening comes, and I'm like an animal. I don't even need to be hungry to have this compulsion to eat, eat, eat (but if I am hungry, WATCH OUT).
I crave ice cream like it's the only thing on Earth that will keep me alive. If I can't get ice cream, it's glazed doughnuts. If I can't get glazed doughnuts, I'm pretty miserable for the last, oh, seven hours of the day (which is pretty much every day since I've all but banned such things from our home, knowing what I do to them).
I've never had a sweet tooth except while breastfeeding, so this is not a lifetime of ingrained eating habits. If that were it, I'd be shoveling in bricks of cheese and dill pickles and lettuce (yes, I know, I like weird things). I would very much like to know why healthy alternatives to ice cream are not at all satisfying, not in the least. What did frontier women do while breastfeeding? What do desert nomads do while breastfeeding? Do they all just go stark raving mad? Or do some humans actually eat their young? Why does my body compel me to want ice cream, yet completely reject delicious fruits and frozen yogurt?
I MUST KNOW. I am sick of hauling all this weight around. I feel heavy and tired and gross and BLAAAAGH.
(The good things is that, while my belly looks worse, my legs have not looked this close to fabulous since my sophomore year of college.)
(I will never actually have fabulous legs, because I am genetically predisposed to mutant cellulite awfulness, which started at the ripe old age of 12, when I was in 8th grade and had approximately 4% body fat.)
(Yes, I'm ANGRY.)