Wow, we all survived the first month!

Sitting here with my little monster on my lap (in one of the greatest inventions known to mankind, a sling!), I'm not entirely sure what to write. It's been a month. It certianly does not feel like it has been a month since he was born. Between mood swings, sleep deprivation, and just desperately trying to adjust to his being among us, I think this feels like the world's longest week. Then again, he wasn't quite this big the day we came home and I don't think he was quite this active either.

I don't think I really have too many 'cute' baby stories at the moment. Some things that just left me wonder-struck are really quite small in the grand scheme. Things like how he looks when he smiles, the tiny size of his hands and feet, and how excited he gets when he first hears his father's voice when hubby gets home from work... they're not very dramatic but they just strike me as marvels.

And then there are the things that I never fully believed in until this child was born. No, not some mystic revelations or that Elvis is living with his space alien friends in the neighborhood of the star Vega. No, it's things a bit more mundane. I did not really believe in explosive bowel movements, for example, until this child had one that I could hear at the other end of the apartment with out the baby monitor on! I never really did believe that pacifiers could be repulsed from the baby's mouth like a pair of ni-cad magnets aligned at opposite poles, but that binky shot clear across the room as soon as my fingers left it.

I didn't comprehend that an infant could manage to go thru half of their wardrobe (which takes up half of the closet) in one day due to soiling themselves. I wasn't fully prepared for the way this child can manage to some how violate the laws of physics with his ability to have a bowel movement that transported itself (in part) from within his diaper to on my clothes, with out any appreciable amount on his pants. I'm still baffled by the way he managed to spit up and have it all down the back of his clothes. I mean, the boy was sitting up in his swing, facing forward, with the thing not even moving. There was no way for his spit up to get onto the back of his clothes unless by some strange effect I don't understand.

Do the bodily excretions of an infant exhibit the quantum particle's effects on a macroscopic scale? It really is the only explination that I can think of at the moment.

And to think, this is but after the first month of this child being home. What will come next? Probably bankruptcy with the cost of diapers and diaper wipes.