Brand new

The tiniest person is snoozing on my lap, the slightly larger person is away at preschool, and the largest person is off at the gym, so I'm reflecting on the last three weeks since little Jake came into our world. He's wonderful and adorable, and he's turned us all upside down a little bit. He's a mellow infant, for the most part, but has the same baby dragon scream that his big brother did -- "don't make me angry....you won't like me when I'm angry!" We've gone through a week with the 24/7 glow and hum of a biliblanket to treat his jaundice (and can I just ask, Mr. Biliblanket Designer , have you not actually observed how awkward this thing is on a live baby human?), and now we're waiting for my little glowworm's milia spots to fade away. He's beautiful, though, despite the yellow-brown complection. Perfectly formed. Big blue eyes. Long thin fingers. Toes like candy dots. Full head of hair, and peach fuzz up his back and across the tops of his tiny ears. As is the case with all newborns, Jake is really not terribly interesting -- he doesn't do anything -- yet we all sit here staring at him through most of each day. We nurse a lot, nap a lot, snuggle a lot. Just yesterday, however, we managed to get out of the house and eat lunch with my dad; for two hours I felt like a real person again, instead of a house-bound, sweatpants-clad, baggy-eyed, swollen-bellied blech. I've lost all track of day and date; it's been like one very long, hazy day broken into 3-hour segments between feedings. The big difference, though, between this newborn experience and our first newborn experience is that we knew what to expect so we don't feel so panicky all the time, less like we've been run over by a train but merely buzzed by a compact car. I also know that each phase goes by quickly, so I can be patient and perseverant through the yucky stuff, grateful and present for the amazing stuff. Sweet Boy has adjusted fairly well. He loves his baby brother, smothers him with kisses and constantly asks "can I just look at his face?" (Can you imagine a more pure, loving desire than to simply gaze on his baby brother's face?!) But he's been a bit mean to Mommy, which I expected. I've tried to spend as much one-on-one time with Big Bro as possible, but it's not been easy, with the 6-inch incision healing on my belly and the 22-inch person suckling on my breasts. Day by day, though. We'll all figure it out. We're getting into a rhythm now, I think, I hope. I feel reassured this morning that perhaps I can be mother to two children without completely losing my mind; a week ago, I wasn't so sure. And now I must nap.