A new body part

Ever since my dear sweet daughter was born, I have acquired a new body part. It is not a particularly flattering part, but it is a practical one. This new part is attached to my derriere, and it molds perfectly to the backside of my body, gives my poor legs (which are still carrying around some baby weight) a much-needed rest, and rocks in a very soothing rhythm.

Yep - you guessed it. It's the recliner. This chair is where I have fed all my babies, and my newest little baby loves to eat. She is really into eating. She would prefer to do it much of the day (and night, but that's a story for another post). And, being that she is the fifth child, I let her do pretty much whatever she wants (this does not bode well for the future). With my first two children, I was quite rigid with a feeding schedule (though it flew in the face of medical advice). It worked well for us, and my babies seemed to thrive despite my militaristic regimen. My third child was on a hospital-appointed feeding schedule, so I didn't have a choice in his situation. By the time my fourth child was born, if he cried, I nursed him. I didn't have time to try xyz to see what he needed. If he fussed, and a certain part of mine would make him happy, then that's what he got. Which brings us to my dear daughter. Like I said, she loves to nurse. And since there is much going here much of the time, she gets her way. Heaven help me if this causes psychological problems later (i.e. food solves all life's problems, etc.). Hey - I'm keeping my head above water here, people.


So - as I was saying - the recliner. Chances are, if you call me or visit, I will be in the recliner. The other day, I had some difficulty getting up and I swear it was because the chair didn't want to let me go. We have really bonded, the chair and I. When I wean my daughter, I think we will both grieve a little.

Duh?

Today, a good friend called to ask me a question about the meal she is bringing us tomorrow (meals for new moms - a fabulous program our church has).

Friend: Do you guys like coconut?

Me: Complete silence.

Friend: Interpreting my silence as trying to be polite about a food we dislike. It's okay if you don't like it. I won't use it in the fruit salad.

Well, I wasn't trying to be polite, unfortunately. The real truth of the matter is, I had no idea what she was talking about. From the moment she asked if we liked coconut, I was trying to imagine how one ate a coconut. Do you crack it open? Do you drink the juice? Isn't the outside kind of fuzzy to eat? Should we make cool coconut bras with it when we're done?

It took me several seconds to remember that one eats coconut flaked and on things like fruit salad and desserts. Not broken open with a sledgehammer while shipwrecked on a remote island.

I can only chalk this up to severe sleep deprivation and lack of functioning brain cells. It obviously isn't because I'm stupid, right? Right?!?!

. . .all my sins were washed away. . .

Today, my dear little baby girl was baptized. My husband had the distinct privilege of baptizing her. As he put it on his Facebook profile, his little pagan is now a beautiful Christian. . .or something to that effect.

Before the baptismal liturgy even started, I was teary. As my mother-in-law put it, "This is THE moment!" True, true. Her physical birth was important, but this is her real birth. She was immersed, which only adds to the symbolism.

My husband was choked up as he led the baptismal liturgy, as was I. But our sweet little girl wanted things to lighten up. After she was baptized (naked), she was wrapped up in a towel and placed in my arms. Just as her dear daddy anointed her forehead with oil, there was a distinct sound from the depths of the towel. I can only assume she wanted to make her baptism as memorable as possible.

The price of mommyhood

Okay, blogging with an infant is a bit tricky. First, there is the general issue of finding time to write. Second, there is the small problem of typing while a) holding a baby - a very challenging process, or b) leaving the baby in the other room under the "watchful" eyes of my other children. Third, there is the oh-so-important question of "What the heck should I write?" I seem to have lost many brain cells over the course of the last nine years, and sometimes (read: often) my mind is a complete void. An utter wasteland, where there used to be some grey matter.

In fact, I was talking about losing brain cells after giving birth with a friend of mine, who had two children at the time. She said to me, "You must have been brilliant before you had children!" While it sounds like a strange comment to make, I knew exactly what she meant. To be reasonably intelligent now (a questionable assumption!), I must have been a genius before mommy brain crept in!

So - I use this entry as a case in point. I have virtually said nothing, but it does count as a post, right?