let me count the ways

Oh bubs, you are five weeks old this week, and pretty much already packing for college. My newborn has disappeared. A full face, ending in some amazing jowl folds, you’re now using your little neck to do fun things like rear back and crank your face into my collarbone, drawing tears and surprised wails. Starting to make small talk with the pillows on the bed when I change your diaper. Making loud exhaled cooing noises out of nowhere that sound like you just got the best news ever and must share it with me. Smiling at me, at Pops, at Gramma when we smile at you. Letting Mama munch on your stomach when your diaper is off and not losing your mind at the drop in butt temperature. Grabbing onto fistfuls of my hair when I’m not careful and hanging on like I’m dangling you over a balcony. Spitting up clumpy white chunks of milk seemingly hours after eating, leaving us scrambling for a cloth. (You’d kept it all in your guts for so long I forgot that spit up existed. Cue the 40 oversized bibs we bought for you that look like you’re heading out for a lobster dinner.)
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