First Night

So, last night was perfectly tiring.

I have a very specific memory of bringing Quinn home as a newborn. She was perfect. Never cried. Ate on a schedule. Slept all the time. And yet, one night I just cried because I was so perfectly tired. I thought, "If this is the best it gets, how does anybody survive."

At least I had that warning this time around. There is no doubt about it ... you just can't get enough sleep. Luckily, this time around, I get this cool relaxed, drugged feeling when I nurse. It is almost a break ... a 1970's happy as clam break. I enjoy it, and it makes things better. I never got any of those psycho-emotional physical reactions last time. I like them.

And in standard Fellow fashion, McKenna did great last night. She ate from about 9:30 p.m. to 10:15 p.m. Then she woke up at midnight to eat again. She wasn't a fan of going back to sleep at that point, and so I called in for my reinforcements. Tim helped her and watched a show until 2 a.m. I decided that maybe she just needed more to eat since my milk was barely coming in. I fed her again, and she went straight to sleep. She ate at about 5 a.m. and 8:30 a.m.

I never heard from Quinn during the night, but that could have had everything to do with my amazing mother taking care of everything.

And then we also had a nice morning. Quinn is interacting really well with McKenna. She loves to set up her stool by the crib and watch her sleep or report to us what she is doing. She doesn't want to hold her a ton, but she loves to help ... most of the time. She has her own new baby doll with a hospital bracelet, and she likes to nurse and burp that while I nurse and burp McKenna.

Today I asked Quinn what used to be in my big tummy. She said, "Kenna." Then to test her, I asked, "Where is Kenna now?"

She thought about it.

"In her bed."

By George, I think she's got it.