Bringing up Baby

It didn't even have to be Mother's Day yesterday for me to realise how wonderful this life is. I'm reveling in the throes of motherhood with all my might. Jane is such a practically-perfect-in-every-way baby that it really seems almost too good to be true. She doesn't cry very much, is generally happy (meaning she's not crying; judging from her expressions of furrowed brows she's profoundly puzzled and slightly detached from this world) when awake, almost slept through the night the last two nights (meaning she lasted for 3- and 4-hour stretches at a time, and I was the one waking her up to feed, which at this age is as close to sleeping through the night as you can get), and is adorably cute to boot. Moreover we both (Michael and I) feel great despite having not caught up on sleep yet, and I'm gradually easing back into all but the most fitted of my pre-pregnancy clothes, and I haven't taken any of those painkillers they sent me home from the hospital with, and the weather is beautiful and the flowers are in bloom and the birds are singing. Things are so good that I'm half worried lest we break out in boils presently and our cattle and sheep all get slain by the Amalekites.

Yesterday we went to church, after much deliberation about germs and such. We decided to risk it since by leaving Jane in her car seat/stroller combo, we could open both canopies and shield her from the adoring public in a virtual incubator. Plus I was sure I would win the Mother's Day prize for youngest baby. And would you know it, they asked all mothers to stand and just gave everyone a book! I felt so ripped off. But later we were standing in the hallway talking with Joy, another young mother whose baby is nine months old. Joy was exclaiming over how disappointed she was that the only mothers they recognised were the youngest mother and the oldest mother present. 'And if only that 22-year-old hadn't been there, I so would have won!' she exclaimed to the associate pastor. 'Look at Rose. If you'd given the prize for youngest baby, she would have gotten that! Five days old and they bring her to church!' 'Wait here,' the pastor told me, and came back with a whole stack of Dr. Stanley books for us!

Today is my first day of parenting solo. Reality set in at last and Michael had to go back to work today. But I am relieved to report that after one hour of being alone with the Baby, post-partum depression has not set in, so I think at this point we are safely past that risk. We are going to have a splendid time together, and already have a fun week lined up. As soon as JC Penney opens this morning, we're going in to get Jane's portrait taken, courtesy of a really wonderful coupon I got from Parenting magazine, the one useful contribution that circular has made to my life. (Rachelle learned the hard way that you look at the fine print very hard to make sure there is no hidden sitting fee. This was going to be a family portrait until I noticed that only the first person is free.)

Random political thought of the day (proving that I can momentarily tear my mind away from Jane and notice the outside world): Hmmm, and I thought Chippendales was a furniture store.