It's 8am and although I was up most of the night, I rolled over to find Eloise looking me straight in the eye, smiling. I guess it's her way of saying "Gooooddd morning, Mommy, time to get up now." I wanted to say, "No thank you baby, I need a few more hours," but here I am. Oh well. The sun is shining and Chris made me a delicious cup of coffee before he left for work.
Every time I think I have Eloise's schedule figured out something changes. In the beginning she was waking to eat every hour and a half. Then it was two hours, then three and finally four hours at night and I thought, "wow, this isn't so hard!" Then things changed again and she wakes every two or three hours with a sprinkling of five-hour stints if I'm lucky. Very lucky.
Days spent with my tiny, growing baby are fascinating, wonderful, and magical. I love seeing every little change that occurs in Eloise - how she follows our voices with her eyes, wiggles her expressive limbs, grasps with her hands and best of all, looks right at you and smiles. Eloise will be twelve weeks old tomorrow and watching her transition from newborn to infant has been unbelievable. It has also become nearly impossible to get anything done.
Our new routine is no routine. By the time I manage to get myself ready in the morning Eloise has eaten, had a diaper change, eaten again, been changed again, possibly eaten once more and is dressed for the day before I even scarf down a piece of toast. And I can forget going about my normal household tasks alone - Eloise greatly protests being put down for daytime naps and in defeat I stick her in the Baby Bjorn and attempt to bumble about without waking her. Poor Granby has become very patient about waiting for his morning walk.
So here I am, it's now 9am as it's taken me an hour to write this short post. But guess what? Eloise has gone back to sleep.