Luke is now officially two months old. He can smile. He entertains us with witty sayings such as, "A goo ba goooo um." He has a proceeding hair line, chubby little arms, and feet that I absolutely must kiss whenever I see them. He enjoys eating, watching the rotating animals in his mobile march in endless circles, eating, staring at Christmas lights, eating, and he prefers to be elevated and moving at all times. If you bounce him contrary to the beat in any music that might be playing in the background, he notices and complains. That's my boy.
Shawn and I are two month old parents now. We can type left-handed with remarkable speed, fold up the stroller in one deft move, and catch a projectile binky before it hits the ground. We frequently and unknowingly sway and bounce even when not holding an infant. We can also be heard to mutter witty phrases such as, "A goo ba goooo um." And no, of course we're not sleeping, and thanks for asking.
I made the scary but necessary move of resigning from my position at work, and I now work on a contract basis from home, doing web design and a few mapping gigs while I juggle diapers changes and feeding times. I got myself a very snazzy new computer for my new working endeavors. Pushing the "purchase" button was a little scary on that one, but I've never had a brand new computer before, and I must say, it's very pretty and wicked fast. (See photo featuring my new co-workers above.)
Christmas snuck up on me and I'm repaying it by giving it the silent treatment. I decided that it's not Christmas itself I have a problem with. It's the gift scene. I like the caroling with friends, the lights, the Christmas trees, the little cookies covered in frosted sugar. It's the "I feel like I need to get a gift for So-and-so -- what can I buy them?" thing that I'm not into. My family has decided to make gifts for each other this year. A sweet sentiment though we'll see what they think of the gifts I can manage with one hand while changing diapers with the other. Did I mention that every surface of my house has been covered with spit-up?
So here's the thing... My dear dear friends, I love you all but I'm broke and I officially have no spare time, so please understand that Santa may not be dropping off anything at your house on my behalf this year. And please don't feel obligated to send any presents my way. A cup of tea and conversation that extends beyond "A goo ba goooo um" would be a lovely gift. Stop by sometime.
Sidenote:
Adam, I'm glad you're alive. Don't ever fucking scare us like that again. Scott, I'm not sure if it was fate, luck, karma, or ka that put you in the right place at the right time, but thank you for being there. You are likely the only one among us that would have known what to do and had the presence of mind to get it done.