2 months down...

I can't keep track of time. Its already been 2 months since Charlie was born. 2 months, really? As I'm typing this, the little man is sleeping in my lap with his head resting on my arm. This is how I usually type, seeing as how he hates to be put down. Even after hes fallen into the deepest of sleeps and I so slowly and carefully move him from my lap to his swing (I don't even attempt the bassinet anymore, its never good), he refuses. At first it seems like maybe it will work. I hover over him for a few minutes, holding my breath, not making a noise, just waiting for a flinch or whimper. As soon as the coast is clear, I walk away. And then within seconds of turning my back... how dare I abandon him?! I rush to him, before he opens his eyes, stroke his hair and say "awwww, mommy loves you, here I am, here I am, goo goo, goo goo Charlie" over and over again, trying to trick him into thinking hes still in my lap. Pffft, please mom, I'm not falling for that crap- says his imaginary thought bubble. ...dang it!

This morning we went to the base clinic for Mr. Man's (oh we've got endless ridiculous nicknames for him) 2 month well baby checkup. Christopher offered to let me sleep in (if 6:30 is sleeping in), and said he'd take him. *long pause* ...What?! Are you kidding me? Us moms, we live for this stuff. This is the part of the parenting job where you get to hear the doctor tell you how beautiful your baby is, and how good you're doing, and everything else that your friends and family have probably told you, but you need to hear from the doctor. I don't want to hear secondhand how much weight hes gained. I don't want to get tossed a piece of paper with his stats on it, never having heard from the doctor's mouth that the small hole in his heart has possibly closed up. Seriously, dads... you stay home and sleep in this time (wow, a whopping hour. You really do love me), this is the only type of doctors appointment I'll ever enjoy going to.

Pfffft, sleep in.

Right.