Life with Essie

Things are good. 

I'm starting to feel the effects of nursing on and off all night - sore back, never really sleeping soundly, cranky husband who hasn't slept much either since he so generously gets up to top her off with a bottle of formula. You know, the usual of life with a newborn.

But lack of sleep aside, we seem to be getting the hang of being outnumbered by children. Actually, that makes it sound like I think Ryan and I should take credit for that. The truth is we have a great baby in Essie, and two toddlers that are so good at fighting playing with each other that they really keep each other occupied. 

And we rarely leave the house. 

That's my personal secret to adding a child to the home: don't go anywhere until you absolutely have to.  At least, not just you and them. That's crazy talk. You, of course, can go anywhere you want alone. That's encouraged.

That being said, I'm actually entertaining the idea of going to a La Leche League meeting with all three (and I probably would have today if I wasn't terrified of Essie getting the flu) because I'd like to get some insight on our nursing routine. But since the flu threat doesn't seem to be waning, maybe it needs to be a topic for a future post. 

Overall, though, nursing is going well. I'm supplementing with formula and I'm still wondering about her possible tongue tie. Our pediatrician said it's not severe enough to treat, but she nurses for a loooong time, which I've heard can happen with that. So I might ask the doctor if she could reconsider taking care of it. 

Essie is an absolute sweetheart. She's super alert, which always seems funny since she is so tiny. The most common comment I hear from people (after "she's so small", of course) is that she looks like a doll. She's actually been mistaken for one more than once.

She's still in that alien phase, of course. Eat, sleep, poop, cry, look around with big eyes (as if she's wondering, where the heck am I???), repeat. It's so amazing when they emerge and start to interact. And then suddenly they're two and they're in their bedroom yelling, "Mommy, I pooped on my floor! Go away poop!" as you type a blog post.  

Oh, my crazy toddlers. Clara has informed me more than once that "Mama, babies don't talk," most likely to remind herself of this fact as she anxiously awaits the day Essie will become the lifelong playmate everyone has been telling her about. 

Doing their best looking-away-in-boredom faces

So we're settling into a new routine which includes, most importantly, loving on our little six-and-a-half-pound munchkin. My house is a mess, my floors are unswept, dirty laundry is piling up, clean laundry needs to be folded, I haven't cooked a meal since we've been back, and I might have forgotten how to get to the gym, but it's the happiest I've been in a long, long time. Life with Essie is pretty amazing.