Jeff and I are adjusting to being parents. Even after 2 weeks, its still bizarre and surreal. I've realized that this is because the version of me responsible for most of my inner dialog still has long, ratty hair, pumpkin teeth, and a wardrobe comprised entirely of t-shirts tucked into windshorts (ideal for cartwheeling). It was super weird saying, "I need to make an appt. for my DAUGHTER," the other day. How can I be a wife and a mom when I rarely feel truly grown up?
Lily teased us with one night of sleeping in her carseat inside Jeff's cradle by our bed. I felt like an average first time mom that night. I slept for 3 hours at a time and woke up to feed her, then went to sleep again. Since then, we're back to holding her all night catching 30 minutes of sleep intermittently throughout the night... and exploring the explanations of colic or reflux. Even when crying or suffering from a clogged tear duct, however, she's still the cutest thing we've ever seen.
The jury is still out on who she looks like. We definitely think she'll end up looking more Olson than Kimmel... except for her little nose... which I am convinced is Suzanne's.
On a different note... For those of you who remember Suzanne, my cousin Kristin, and I forming the ALMOST legendary "Anthony Michael Hall Monitors" and are now following the World Series of Pop Culture on VH1 at 8:00. My attitude now is that I am quite glad actually that we didn't make it. Although a trip to NY would have been nice, Lily might have been harmed by the heart condition brought on by lights and a microphone and making a fool of myself was inevitable. I enjoy shouting out (most of) the answers from a comfortable distance on the couch. The team that beat us in the final four in Austin, Westerburg High, just got out in the last round. I was hoping they would win... but really I'm just hoping anyone but 'Team Motherboy' wins. They won in Austin and we remember them being super annoying. When we came out after losing in the final four, I remember them doing stretches in their black boots over their jeans and offering insincere condolences. Maybe that's where we went wrong... should have been doing some lunges between matches to keep our synapses firing.