Exhaustion has hit, but at least I have relief in the form of a certain French Las Vegas dame, my grandma June who, to date, has moped the kitchen floor, cleaned all the counter tops, appliances, stove, etc. She has also scrubbed the mold off the bathroom floor, fixed the broken towel rack, vacuumed the tufts of dog hair that accumulate daily and purchased us groceries. Then, when I'm sleepy, she takes Jude Lei as I fall into a slumber until the next feeding. I don't know what I'm going to do when she leaves on Monday.
Anyhow, I gave using a breast pump a try a few days ago. The device reminds me of one of those obnoxious fog horns that high school boys like to blow at football games. I read over the directions and washed it out before placing the mustard yellow valve up to my boob and turning the appliance on. Odd slurping sounds quickly overrode the methodical hum of the motor and I watched in semi-fascination, semi-horror as milk squirted into a bottle with each sucking compression. After about five minutes I turned it off, my nipple a shade of Barney purple and throbbing, and decided that breast-feeding is much better when it's the baby sucking and not some machine.
Jude Lei has really woken up in these past few days. When he's not pooping, eating or sleeping, his big eyes roam around as his face contorts into a variety of expressions. Sometimes he purses his lips, sticks his head up erect and makes these, "Oooh" sounds. It wouldn't surprise me if he threw in an, " E.T. phone hooooome!" with his index finger pointing toward the heavens. Other times, he head-bangs against my breast, mouth open, gargling and cooing to himself, until he comes into contact with the food source. He then snorts like an excited piglet before taking the plunge, face first, into my melonous bosom, latching on and sucking away. I wonder about brain damage and often put my hand behind his head as to buffer the bobs, but he finds this annoying and often shrieks so I permit the bouncing ritual.
Our great family friend drove all the way from Boston and visited for two days. She and Grandma June hadn't seen each other in 18 years, since they both lived in Atlanta following the arrival of my brothers.
At night, I had made a dinner reservation at a fondue place and we intended on bringing Jude Lei, but last minute Matt was tired so he opted to stay home with the baby. I made sure to feed him before leaving, but upon returning home two hours later Matt's shallow eyes, stooped posture and the condition of the family room communicated that Jude Lei had screamed the entire time. It made me realize how truly tethered I am to the baby and that there's no guarantee he'll sleep when he's supposed to or be content. We have to surrender to the spontaneity of his schedule and the complete lack of our own.
Today, the last piece of Jude Lei's belly-button cord came off. I was startled by a disgusting odor and assumed he'd pooped, but instead another ring of greenish matter appeared. Whereas we thought he was going to be an outie, it looks as though he may actually be an innie!
I'm relieved the belly-button stuff is over with because we're now able to wash him in his baby tub. Jude Lei sits in this blue hammock with his bottom submerged in warm water. Grandma helped me with his first official non-sponge bath and it went really well although I'm not sure I would be as confident if I were alone.
Randomly, there's this really annoying bird outside of my bedroom window that sounds surprisingly like Jude Lei crying! I have to nap downstairs with the baby because if not I wake every few minutes to the screeching animal.