My mother’s family has a particular brand of baby talk, as I imagine lots of families do, and part of ours include special names and pronunciations of things, and I have recently been calling up one of them – my yumpy sock.
A “Yumpy sock,” or “Lumpy sock,” it aptly describes the state of a newborn: small, light and not a lot of neck or muscle control. Just a small little lumpy sock that rests in my arms or on my chest.
My Wee One is still in that lumpy sock stage, and I love it.
Having a schedule for her is good. I miss being pregnant and I still love my belly. Every time I leave the house, I am continually reminded of some of the uglier things about the world today – abandonment, violence, exploitation – and I want to curl up and keep her from that. I don’t want her to get harassed on the street. I don’t want her to get bullied or to bully people.
I love watching her sleep. Love her little expressions. She purses her lips like a bird and lifts her eyebrows. She also lifts her little hands to her face in a certain way – we think she had her hands by her face in utero, but it’s such an affected look – it’s precious. I’ll try to draw it soon.
I want to say that things are going well here, and they are in the sense that I’ve kept her alive for two weeks at home. 🙂 She’s content, she’s gaining weight and she likes it when I sing to her, especially Ani DiFranco. I know I didn’t invent motherhood or anything, but I’m pretty sure this is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 
Isn’t it the most powerful experience you ever had? The bond is sometimes so strong it is frightening and you get overwhelmed by the sheer responsibility of it all. All in my past now, but I will never forget that protective, instinctive rush.
Oh my goodness, I have never seen or been around something as pure as this little person. And I do get overwhelmed, so I try not to think beyond today. It’s been a good practice, actually.