But here I am, with thank you notes yet to be written, indulging myself. I won't try to sum up the first six weeks of parenting in one blog post. It's magical, it's terrifying, it's boring, it's exhilarating, it's every cliche you've ever heard. We believe our baby to be the sweetest and the best. At his check-up the other day his pediatrician called him a smart baby, and while this is a ridiculous thing to say about a child this age and probably just meant that the doctor couldn't bring herself to call him cute, we are secretly convinced that she's right--he's a total genius. Unfortunately, he is a genius with acid reflux, just like his old lady in the last two months of her pregnancy. This makes him understandably unhappy from time to time. He has been prescribed Zantac, also just like his old lady. Heartburn sucks, ya'll.
Today for the first time we tried putting Soren in the wrap thingie and strolled up the street for a delicious brunch. He was out like a light, a completely contented light, the entire time. It was delightful. Why did we wait so long to try the wrap thingie? I don't know. I think Mr. A and I both secretly distrusted our own origami skills. I don't think we're the most hyper-worried first time parents around, but the wrap thingie comes with a really long instruction manual that is intimidating somehow. We pictured him falling through our slopping folding techniques and splattering on the pavement.
But you know what? He effing LOVES the wrap thingie--it is like a miracle shut-off switch for fussiness. So fine, hippies, I admit it--you're right about everything. Well, except for elimination communication. (You may be right about that too but you'll never get me to admit it.)
And now, a couple of baby photos that have nothing to do with the wrap thingie.
