I find few things more gratifying than getting boogs out of Eli's nose- grossest thing ever, but I hate listening to him breathe with a stuffy nose and he sleeps better when he can breathe.
Time both stands still and speeds by; life before him is this vague entity- because it doesn't feel weird to have him here. It feels very normal and right that Kenny and I are parents now. At the same time- 2 months old?! How? When? It blows my mind.
I stop being frustrated with Kenny the second he holds our son, the image of them being together makes me forget about the trash can entirely- magical powers.
I truly believe Eli is going to captivate the world, I believe he is destined for great love.
Sometimes I don't like taking pictures of Eli or writing about him or to him because I don't know how I can accurately capture how I feel, what I think it or how he looks. It's all too beautiful and precious.
To get myself to not be a crazy person and check his breathing everytime he shuts his eyes to sleep, I get super morbid and remind myself that if he dies in his sleep, me checking up on him won't do any good.
I don't know how terrible of a parent I would be if Eli was a normal sleeper, but I'm guessing awful. Eli typically sleeps at night for a 6.5-9 hour stretch and then wakes for a 3 hour stretch. He has done this for weeks. On the nights that he is an average baby and wakes up every 3.5 hours, Kenny typically takes him from me because he can hear me begging the baby to go to sleep. To all you mamas dealing with the torture that is sleep deprivation and haven't snapped- I applaud you.
I rarely call Eli by his name, typically, he is just "the baby." Eli sounds a little too formal.
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