Three Weeks: A Growth Spurt

So, we're three weeks in. I cannot believe that she is already three weeks old and simultaneously cannot believe that she hasn't been here forever. She just belongs here. With us. Here is the darling precious millie bean mcgee:


I can't seem to remember to take pictures with anything other than my iphone. That thing is saving my life now that I have a Stage 5 Clinger on the boob at all hours. This morning she hasn't let me put her down (minus right this very--potentially short-lived--moment). And she has wanted to nurse every 2.2 seconds. And she's been more fussy than usual. So I looked it up. And I think she's experiencing a growth spurt--go Mills!

In other news, my arm hair (and head-hair) is falling out. SO weird. Just last night I was resting my face on my forearm (at 2am) as I watched the boy hold his precious little daughter (I still die!) and it was pricking me. I gave it a little closer inspection and holy hell there's like 2 long strands left and a bunch of little short ones. I showed the boy and he was like, yeah, and your hair is falling out. I was all, THANKS. PREESH. My hair is looking even thinner than usual and it's constantly a ratty nest every morning due to the night sweats. Fun times!

But the good news is that I'm officially back to pre-preg weight. Actually, I was back at like one week postpartum (braggy mcgee). BUT, this is due to the fact that I've also lost all of my MUSCLE. My body is like jello. Very squishy jello everywhere. Which would be nice if I needed to be squeezing in and out of tight spaces. But I don't. So there's that. I cannot wait to start working out again. I miss it. I have been pestering the midwife about letting me start exercising sooner, but she's not budging. She said I can do kegels (yippee) and tummy tucks (woop-de-doo). And that's it. In other TMI physical news, the bleeding has ceased so I don't have to wear the maxi-pads anymore or freshen up down there with the peri bottle. These are the things you don't need to know until you need to know. But I just informed you. So now you may know unnecessarily. Knowledge is power.

Okay then! Millie!!

Millie is the sweetest of the sweet. Even her spit-up is sweet. Even when she pukes on me in the middle of the night because I fell asleep nursing and don't burp her and I have to sleep on a towel she's sweet. She loves to stare at lights and she's starting to hold her head up more and more. (And then it crashes down and I panic for two seconds.) She loves her sleep sheep and the sound of the dryer. She loves to have her hands by her face at all times. She loves to lie in her changing pad and stare at the map above her. She loves to take a warm bath with Mama. She loves to nap with Daddy. She loves to nurse. A lot. But in snack-like portions. (She must be watching her figure.) She does not love when she has gas. In fact, she hates. (Also, we hate.) She sounds like an owl when she cries--which isn't too often. She doesn't like to get dressed and she lets us know it. She loves to be snuggled. And guess what else? She loves us. And we love her to the moon and back.