Holy crap. I'm posting a blog.I've been meaning to post again for quite some time. Admittedly, this is partially due to the fact that I want to make my first three blog attempts look less lamesauce by actually creating a robust blog. But I also enjoy blogging. Apparently I'm just too lazy to post for almost a year.
Anyway. Not much has happened since my last post.
Oh--except for the whole pregnancy and having a baby thing. No big deal. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.
I kid, of course. And I have a kid. I guess that means I'm automatically wiser and more mature. Right? Or maybe I'm just more tired. Believe me, babies are adorable, and I absolutely love mine. But they are SO high maintenance! I mean, it's like they can't do anything for themselves. Mine is always demanding one thing or another. Little slave driver.
Someone once told me that having a baby and taking care of it for the first few months was the hardest thing she's ever done. She was COMPLETELY right! I'm beginning to think working 40 hours a week in an office is a piece of cake. And right now, it sounds super restful.
But let me get serious for a moment. In spite of how hard and tiring it is, it really is completely worth it. I love my baby Emma absolutely to pieces. She's so sweet, and I can't even explain how special she already is to me and Byron after only three weeks. The years ahead are looking extremely busy, but also extremely exciting. I've been thinking a lot about how fun it will be to see her smile at me for the first time ... to chat with her when she starts talking in two-year-old language ... to take her to the park ... to put pigtails in her hair ... to hold her hand when we cross the street ... to take her to Disney World ... so many amazing things to look forward to.
Don't get me wrong, though. I'm not deluded enough to think it will always be roses and rainbows and ponies. She has already made sure I am firmly planted in reality by being a bit ... shall we say ... hard to please at times. So I know I will have tantrums in the grocery store, poutiness, and juice stains on the floor. I've already had to deal with sleepless nights, spit up on my clothes, diet changes to accommodate a colicky baby, and ringing eardrums from those times she refuses to be comforted. But strangely, everything is worth it when I look at that sweet face. It's going to be hard to deny this cutie-pie anything. I'm going to have to refine my manipulation-resistance techniques pretty darn quick.
I'm going to stop writing now. But I'm warning you, I will likely write more about my baby in the future.
Just promise me one thing--if I ever start waxing eloquent on my child's bathroom habits, please unsubscribe to this blog. I pledge to you now that I will keep any future mention of my child's bodily functions to myself.
