Furniture

We just got a futon bringing our living room comfortable seating number up to five (or a bit squishy six). Things are certainly shaping up here. I keep thinking we've been living in a messy place for quite some time but it's just coming up to two months. Also there really isn't much room for storage so everything is out until we find (or make) a place for it. It's getting there. Definitely not all the way yet but most steps are in positive directions. At least now I don't feel badly when we have people over. Talking to a friend who has been meaning to visit but hasn't been able to yet I just assure her that it's not a problem and that the longer the visit is put off the nicer our place will be...

The little guy is napping on the armchair beside me and just laughed in his sleep. When you're that small, almost everything you do is SO cute. It's a crazy feeling. I'm trying to make myself lay him down sometimes when he's sleeping during the day and at times before he falls asleep so he learns how to put himself to sleep. It's harder than it looks. I often wonder if it's the parents or the kids that are the bigger culprits when the clingy-ness becomes a problem later on. Will there come a time when I don't want to hold him any more? Okay, I have reached that point when he has been fussy for several hours and will not sleep but it has more to do with being tired of the fussiness--I probably wouldn't have a problem with still holding him afterwards. I think it's true that parenthood is just another word for crazy. Crazy good and just plain crazy. I remember a time when my mind wasn't completely filled with the magnificent mundane. Baby brain. Is it a bad thing, though?

Two months

I can't believe it's been over two months already. People always say it goes quickly but it really does.
It also feels as though I'll always remember every detail of what is going on but I know that from week to week I can forget so I want to write down some of my favourite things.
Logi-bear is getting so chunky and growing so much. I can't believe how much of his clothes he's outgrown already (not that he doesn't have an inordinate amount of outfits to grow into still).
I love how when he wakes and I pick him up he does a superman stretch in the air.
I love how his voice is all muffled or scrunchy sounding when he first wakes.
I love how I can't wait to pick him up even if I had been more than happy to put him down for the nap. Sometime I have to stop myself from waking him up so I can pick him up.
I love how he looks in little boy clothes (pants, overalls etc) but I'm really sad he's not wearing sleepers all the time any more.
I love how he holds my hand (finger) when we go for rides in the truck.
I love how he talks to his monkey and his Papa Smurf.
I love how he loves his daddy.
I love his little coos, squeaks, squeals, and attempts at saying "hi".
I love how he can be so polite sometimes in informing us when he's waiting to be fed by doing his hungry dance.
I LOVE his grin.
I love when he gets mad and his "mmmaaaa" cry.
I love how his eyebrows go white and his face goes red before he cries.
I love how he snuggles under my chin or on my shoulder.
I love how he sucks his fist when he goes to bed.
I love how he tries to stand up and look around.
I love his little face to pieces.
I even love how he interrupts everything I try to start doing (including this blog post).
So although the list goes on quite a bit, I'm going to have to leave it at that for now!

Shelves in the closet? Happy thought indeed.

Our apartment is messy. Most of this is because we really haven't finished setting it up and part of it is because there aren't that many places to put things away yet. But thankfully it feels like home. Despite the chaos that has followed me for the past half year I have managed to live in places that always, for some reason or another, felt like home. So it has not been completely overwhelming. The best part about this most recent chaos is that I can see how it will end (or at least lessen quite a bit). James has been building us bookshelves (YAY!). They are not the most highly finished shelves but they are sturdy, have lots of shelf space and are much cheaper in the end than anything (wooden or not) that we could buy. Along with the bookshelves he has been creating storage shelves, has started on bedside tables, built access steps to our back window-well (we call it our back door) and has been planning how he wants to make our bedframe. So far we have one of those metal frames with no head- or foot- board which is fine but it will be nice to have a full frame--especially one he planned and made himself. I wonder what it is about making one's own bed that seems to resonate through the years. When mom heard James was making it she mentioned that Dad had always wanted to make their bedframe but she always told him it wasn't necessary. She is sorry now that he didn't have the chance. Going even further back it reminds me of Odysseus and Penelope and I know I've encountered it frequently-enough in literature post-dating that. And now it's touching my life. It's interesting how sometimes I find myself feeling a certain way simply because I know I'm entering into some custom I have read about. To quote (loosely) from the classic movie You've Got Mail: "So many things remind me of something I've read in a book when shouldn't it be the other way around?" Does doing typical adult things or entering into adult customs actually make one an adult or do we simply feel that way because we know they are things adults do?

Well I've really strayed from the origin of this train of thought and don't really think I have made my path (or point) clear but I think I shall leave it as evidence of how I have lost at least part of my logical powers post-baby.