It's been seventeen weeks since a tiny naked Charlie was plopped into my arms. When he was born his entire torso was just about the length of my outstretched hands. When I hold this great big boy in my arms now, just under four months later, it's hard to believe he was ever that small.
He smiles all the time now - laughs too, and he's starting to appreciate music. He sings along when I sing to him, or when Scott plays guitar. He sits at the piano and bangs on the keys. While I have no idea how much of this behavior is purposeful and how much is coincidental, it's still pretty neat. His favorite songs for me to sing right now are Emmy Lou by a First Aid Kit and I'm a Little Tea Pot. Wheels on the Bus is another favorite. Charlie thinks that song is especially funny when his Mama uses it to make fun of his Dad. Tonight it went "The Daddy on the bus says 'That ball's loose! That ball's loose! That ball's loose! Death to the ref!'" Daddy's a Jets fan.)
Charlie has also started blowing raspberries, and can now manhandle objects with both hands. He mostly uses his newfound dexterity to chew on his beanie baby kittens and fish-hook his Mommy. Yeah, ouch. He's starting to sleep through the night but struggles more and more with naps during the day. He's been drooling, fussing, and biting his hands a lot which leads me to believe that teeth may be on the way soon. Whenever he gets cranky Scott asks Charlie why he's getting on the Fuss Bus?
Work is going a little better thanks to some new tech. I bought myself an iPad, and so far it has made it much easier to get things like writing and social media management done during the day. Carving out laptop and kitchen time for graphics and formulation is still tough, but we are making progress.
It's been a little while since I blogged last. Thats partly due to a bit of shyness on my part. I have so many feelings these days, and many of them are conflicting. On one hand I feel completely and utterly blessed. I'm madly in love with Charlie. He has me completely fascinated, entirely devoted, and bursting with joy.
At the same time I can feel myself struggling not to crumble under the combined pressures of at-home motherhood, full-time work, blogging, and writing my first book. Sometimes it's all too much. Sometimes I just want to sell my house, move out into the sticks, and say "to Hell with it all" so I can focus on Charlie-worship exclusively. In that particular fantasy I spend all my free time nibbling his little baby toes and folding laundry. Ahh, how our dreams change shape!
Other times I find myself desperate for my mother or my sister or someone to show up and just TAKE THIS BABY FOR FIVE MINUTES.
It's hard enough to feel all of these things at once - let alone write about them all. I finish a draft one day, then write something the next day only to realize the two posts completely contradict one another. Are my opinions really that fickle, or am I just short on the talent for roping it all together?
Then there's my bitchiness problem. I find that having had a baby has saddled me with an unnecessary surplus of the stuff. I catch myself rolling my eyes at people in public when they start up on a tiresome subject, narrowing my eyes when they begin to take it too far, and shutting them the hell down when I've had enough. Motherhood must have turned me into some kind of honey badger because, People, I just don't give a shit.
Go ahead and tell me how you judge on your neighbor because you think their kid is too old to still be nursing. Let loose your unsolicited parenting advice. Ring my doorbell even after I've plastered a huge sign on the door telling you not to. See what happens.
Hutzpah is great and all, but it can bring out the worst in a blogger. I've written and deleted several posts over the past few weeks after re-reading them and deciding that their psychotic mamma bear vibe was just a hair too strong. You see, I've apparently lost the ability to stop my eyes from rolling up in the back of my head whenever I hear something stupid, but I have NOT lost the common sense to edit. At least not yet.
Oh snap. It's bed time. Mama Honey Badger is OUT. I'll catch you cats on the other side of Seventeen Weeks.