The glamour of the home-based office.

A good day

Some days just work out. The baby sleeps when she's supposed to; the boys don't fight too much. I'm able to feed everybody in relatively good time, and keep the house somewhat picked up. Those are good days, and when they happen I feel so much hope.

These are the days that make parenting seem possible, enjoyable, almost sane. It is these days that leave me to wanting to have 10 million babies. Luckily, they are balanced out by days that make an argument for the exact opposite.

The state of the kitchen table is usually a good indicator of the kind of day we've had here. So, today was a good day:

Zzz

Babies are each so different. It is often said, but even more often true. Jonas fell asleep in my arms, with his head resting on my shoulder, exactly one time when he was an infant. It is Nida's absolute preference. Not nursing. Not rocking. Not in a carrier or cradled in my arms.

This.

Familiar

When you first bring them home, newborns seem so delicate, new and unfamiliar. Today, I found myself holding her with ease, like an extension of my body.

Five and a half weeks after her birth she is 3 lbs 10 heavier and 2 1/2 inches longer. And she is becoming familiar. Still a mystery unfolding. But my mystery.