Atomic Tonic

Last October I sat next to the mother of two young children at a friend's wedding. She told me that our second kid, the one I was still carrying, was going to be my kid. She said I'd be the only one capable of calming her down. It wasn't so much that I didn't believe her, but every situation is different. I didn't think much of the conversation at the time but the last few days I've been realizing she was right. Linnea is my kid. She's Niclas' too, but at six weeks today, she wants me to hold her all the time. She yelled for the duration of my shower this morning, all while Niclas held her. She stopped as soon as I took her back. She wants to sleep nose to nipple with me at night (which is awkward but not nearly as bad as what Matilda wanted at her age, which was to nurse while she slept. All night).

The swing is becoming less reliable as a nap location. More often than not she wakes up before 10 minutes have passed and yells for me to pick her up again. She'll still sleep in the carseat, sometimes for hours, but she tends to put up a fight at the start now.

I have no idea how I'd be surviving Linnea's babyhood (and Matilda's toddlerhood) without this pouch. I guess I'd make it through but I'd be starving and the laundry would never get folded. With Linnea in the pouch, I can do some of the cooking and I can wipe off the counters. Unloading the dishwasher is out as the angles are just too awkward, especially when she burrows into my armpit, as is loading the washing machine.

I can't remember how old Matilda was when we got this pouch but I know we had it by the time we went to Sweden when she was 5 months. She slept through 4 countries, 3 airports and countless afternoons in it. Before I got too pregnant to use it with her, she spent many an "uppee uppee uppee" type afternoon in it. She hung out on my hip while I cooked, her toddler legs dangling around my knees. Now, Linnea spends nearly all her time in it when she's not nursing and sometimes when she is nursing.

Me me me

If Linnea is six weeks old, I'm six weeks postpartum. Down another 1/2 a pound which is pathetic and I don't believe it as I've been eating too many cookies.

As the weight drips away, the sagging is becoming more apparent. This is unfortunate. The muffin top is very unfortunate. I'm glad I can't see myself walking away these days. I have to avert my eyes when the sun casts my shadow on runs. On paper, the runs are getting better. Bit longer, touch faster. Got some minor shin splints for my troubles. But I'm stuffing myself into my old running clothes and I can feel things jiggling. I am so impatient for this body

to change back to this body.