Six weeks and counting

It's difficult to believe that Jack is already over six weeks old. When I was little, one of my grandmothers used to tell me, "The older you get, the faster time goes." I believed her, but I didn't really get it. Now I get it.

I'm doing pretty well. I feel sad at times, about certain things, but I don't feel sad as a general state of mind. It's an important distinction, I think. The latter, or any generally present negative mood (anger and apathy were the big clues after Dorothy's birth), would be a sign I was experiencing PPD again. I feel ... balanced, even-tempered, generally happy and grateful, with appropriate ups and downs from there. Chris and the midwife I saw for my six week check-up both agree that I seem to be doing fine right now. We all also agreed that when I start back to work (halftime on Monday ~sigh!~) that will be a time to watch carefully for how I adjust, how I cope.

It's been a lovely six, almost seven weeks. Jack smiles often and likes to play the "tongue game" -- if he sees someone stick their tongue out at him, he'll mirror the action. He loves contrast, especially the ceiling fans and a drawing Mairi made for him that hangs next to the changing table. He's stayed as mellow as he seemed at first, so far.

The big girls are doing well. They love on Jack as much as they're allowed, asking to hold him regularly.

Mairi is thriving on the greater personal responsibility that 3rd grade has brought, and has made friends with a classmate who lives in our neighborhood.

Nora is reading better all the time -- huzzah! She has trouble when she's overtired or hungry or stressed (don't we all!), but Chris is helping her learn some coping skills for the stress and we try to avoid the other two as much as we can.

Dorothy is doing well, too. She has two particular friends at her preschool, and so has "Molly days" and "Blaise days". She's learning letters and numbers and generally doing all she can to keep up with her big sisters.

It's funny, I was remembering some Christmas events and thinking with amazement that a year ago Dorothy was my baby. She was two, in diapers, still nursing, still a toddler in so many ways. And Jack wasn't even a twinkle in our eyes. I have SO much to be thankful for! :-)

[ETA: The second and third picture were taken by Grandma Janet during our lovely Thanksgiving Day at the camp, Paul Bunyan's Landing.]