I don't remember who said it originally, but someone described taking care of a baby akin to taking care of a drunk. This couldn't be more accurate. Signs of baby-alcoholism: blurred vision, inability to control motor functions, constant hiccoughs, irrational emotional outbursts. It is this last bit that had me having irrational emotional outbursts of my own last night; I think I can say with conviction that I had my first mommy-meltdown last night. And the poor little tyke just wouldn't be consoled, until of course we finally got him relaxed enough to not only sleep but to let fly with the poop, whereby we had complete diaper failure. In our bed. This was not the ending to a long evening one looks for, but we all made it through the horrible storm in our tiny ship, and all persons are accounted for this morning. Once he fell asleep he even let mom have a few extra zzz's between feedings.
And yet after the storm last night there is a placid calm in the house, and our tiny drunk hiccoughs and sings peacefully in the sun. I love our little lush.