We're Not Here To Kill You
Nels is quite the awesome boy. He's pretty confindent that we're not here to kill him, something that Sophie didn't get right away. He's content to snooze on my chest, Anne Geddes style, or be sling-ed about town in all manner of weather.
Sophie's taking it well. She kisses him good night, talks about him alot, and isn't jealous when he nurses. She's still nursing about once a day, although she certainly asks more now that Nels is a visible reminder. Still, it's easy to remind her that she gets breast fed in the mornings.
Eventually, I'm sure, she'll try to drop a can of peaches on his head or something.
It's hard to slow down, though -- we've gotten used to the fast-paced, heady excitement of being a young family. Seriously. Once you're into the groove of being a dad (or mom, I suppose), going out spontaneously to get hot dogs or fly a kite or go for a walk or whatever is really easy.
It's not easy with a toddler and a new baby. Getting into, and out of, the car is an ordeal.
There's little time for Kelly in this new world order. I'm sure, with time, we'll get our action back. Don't think I'm being pessimistic, because I feel happy to type this. I love my family; we feel complete. Completer than before, even. I'm just telling it like it is, which is harder than it was.
Still not wanting to go back to work, although I'm going to have to on the second Wednesday from Nels' birth. Ah well.
