A Night In

Now that we've got her home, we're really getting to know Myrna. And it feels like she's leaning on us a bit more than she did (and could) in the hospital.

Her first night at home, Thursday, was a trial for us all, with much crying, anguish, and exasperation. I can't speak for all of us, but I know at least one dude who caught only three hours of sleep before starting work at 8:00am and later dozed off in a very small chair in the play area of a secondhand children's clothing store. The lesson learned from that night was that Myrna insists on sleeping with us in our bed, something which I was really nervous about, given her tininess and my tossandturninmysleepness.

Mike had some advice about this when we saw him in September - that sleeping with an infant is sort of like when you and a buddy are out late and circumstances compel you to share a bed. You more or less sleep, but are vigilantly aware of the complete geography of the bed through every moment of the night.

Subsequent nights have gone much better and, so far, we haven't smothered Myrna. Certainly I miss REM sleep, but concessions must be made for waking up in the middle of the night to those bright curious eyes, even if said eyes mean a feeding that still requires at least an hour.

So anyway, this morning Kelly's mom headed back across the sea. Kelly and I have made up some quinoa with beets and eggplant, and if the three of us manage to do anything this evening beyond preparing food, serving food, and eating food, we'll probably have overextended ourselves.