Was Dean always this big? Since when did his head become this incredibly large? His hands seem massive. His eyes like golf balls. All I can say is, it’s a good thing we potty trained in March, because those size four diapers would have been simply too gruesome to face after only 24 hours of playing house with the new “wallet sized” Huggies we got for our Jane. Our Jane. Our new, sweeter than honey, softer than a baby bunny, I can’t get enough of that smell, Jane.
I’ll never get used to this phenomenon. I can still remember a 22 month old Andy tromping into my postpartum hospital room 7 1/2 years ago and being absolutely flabbergasted by his overnight change in stature. He was HUGE. I couldn’t stop staring at him through scrunch, incredulous eyebrows. Was this my baby? The same one I tucked into bed the night before? Had he stumbled onto the wrong floor here at the hospital, been mistaken for a short 12 year old and accidentally injected with growth hormones? Radio active spider bite perhaps? There was no logical explanation for his sudden growth spurt.
Except that my new definition of what is a “baby” had changed drastically just hours before he arrived.
How do I always forget how small they come? (And by “small” I mean, 9 lbs. 3 oz.) There is nothing better than one of those warm, sleeping peanuts breathing softly on your chest. Heaven. Literally. I think part of their great smell must be what heaven smells like. (Do you suppose heaven smells like Burt’s Bees Baby Wash?) They are so fresh from that celestial world. Oooh, I just can’t get enough.
Never mind the fact that these cherubs are nocturnal creatures. Notoriously nocturnal. But we’ll get that small detail fixed soon enough I should think. As long as she keeps smelling like this, I let it slide. Besides, those middle of the night feedings are our only time alone together. Just the two of us. All is calm. All is quiet. Breathe it all in.
The kids are elated. Just as I suspected, Andy and Luke are in love. Kate has a brand new best friend and life long ally. Dean has mixed feelings, of course: She’s so soft, so cute, but I can’t hug her as exuberantly as I want to (think “Of Mice and Men”) or I get in big trouble.
Like Tarzan, I am Jane’s protector and champion. Even from the well meaning affections of her aforementioned admirers. It’s a tough job, no doubt. She has to spend quite a bit of time snuggled up to me in a Moby wrap, but that’s okay. That way her delicious scent is nice and close.
And I can breathe it all in. Ahhh…