She's gained another few pounds (we're up to 9 lb, 3 oz, now) and grown almost an inch (she measured 21.75 inches, though the nurse mistakenly wrote it down as 21.34; 0.34 does not "and three-quarters" make, but I digress...) since her last appointment.
Though the goal at two weeks is to have at least (re)attained birth weight, and Amelia fell just below, I was still rather ecstatic to see the number on the scale, since it's the closest I've come to achieving it among my three children (who, despite being born rather large- probably because of it, especially since my milk always took so terribly long to come in- seemed to have issues keeping the weight on afterwards, initially). I joked to her doctor that she might have hit the 9 lb, 4 oz mark had she not pooped just before being weighed (and spit up a couple of times). Though, to be fair, I nursed her a little just beforehand, so that might have tipped the scales a bit the other way.
Regardless, her doctor was happy enough with her progress, which means no weight checks. All good things.
Sadly, while Mia's poor, abused heels are finally healing..
.. her umbilical stump has gotten knocked a time too many and has started to bleed a bit. We've had to take extra-special care with it, of late.
And with all of the changes she's going through, it means constant adjustment for me.
For the second night in a row, Amelia has elected to take a nice, long, late-evening nap in her bouncy seat, which gives me just enough time to get the dishes done after dinner. Win!
However, she seems to want to follow it with an equally long or longer wakeful period, of which she spends 70% of the time trying to nurse, 5% of the time spitting up a lot of what she ate, and 25% of the time desiring to be curled up on my chest. Of course, this time coincides exactly with the hour of the evening in which, finally hands-free of toddlers, I usually attempt to blog. And the angle at which Mia enjoys a lie-down on my chest is not exactly conducive to typing on a keyboard.
Hence, my nearly 11:00 pm start-time tonight. It's certainly not the latest I've ever gotten going, but I think it's the first night that I've spent the free time that I had leading up to it actually attempting to begin, rather than avoiding doing so out of distraction or laziness. It's frustrating, to say the least.
It was made all the more frustrating by a sudden waking from Abby about twenty minutes ago, for reasons I couldn't accurately identify, which was followed by screaming and crying that I had to go upstairs with Mia to discourage (Wednesday nights are Tom's game nights, so he was otherwise engaged). Abby's response when I told her it was time to sleep? "Don't want to sleep! Want to cry!"
Thankfully, once she was back in bed, and the lights were back off, she decided that crying wasn't the best thing to do, after all.
And Mia? Well, it took a transfer over to her daddy's nice, warm chest to convince her that sleep was a good idea, too.
And Mommy finally got to blog.
I guess we'll just have to see what happens tomorrow night, when my little burrito baby potentially changes things up again.
