Gabe's levels were down to 10.7, praise God! We took him off the bili-blanket, and there was much rejoicing. He did have another poke a few days later, and his levels had risen a smidge (my son's a troublemaker already, I tell you), but not above twelve mg/dL, so we're off the blanket for good, I hope. He's still a "golden child," but he has an appointment with his doctor for next week, so we'll hopefully learn that everything's okay. He certainly doesn't act sick, so I'm not worried anymore.

If I thought my life would be easy without the equipment hanging off Gabriel, though, I was off by a bit. Now that we're cord and cable-free, I no longer have that as an "excuse" to slack on the rest of my routine. Life goes on, and there are playgroups, errands, and housework to fill what little leeway I've gained by getting Gabe away from electrical outlets. I'm exhausted, and I'm nowhere near where I'd like to be with any of it. In fact, here I'll kill two birds with one stone: a journal entry updating you guys about my life, and last month's WordGoddess collab, which I'm just getting around to doing. Feh.

Things I'm considering to simplify my life

1. Get Sam his own hamper; he can bring it to me when it's full. Buy dishpans; sort everybody's clothes into dishpans when folding for easy transport between rooms and so that Sam (and eventually Gabe) can learn to put away his own clothes.
2. Finally get on the ball about planning menus for the week. Do shopping for said meals on the weekend to avoid running out of items during the week and to prevent having to take the kids grocery shopping by myself.
3. Shave my head to cut down on morning routine time.
4. Root out little old toy baskets once more to allow for easier toy cleanup in the living room. (Cry in my soul for a single story house, or at least one that has kids' bedrooms on the same floor as the main living space.)
5. Contact cloning science researchers and offer myself as a study subject, so long as I get to keep my clones afterward.

Things about newborns that I forgot

1. Babies need to be burped, even at night.
2. I suck at burping babies, even when I'm fully awake and coherent.
3. Babies who are not successfully burped tend to spit up.
4. Baby spit-up reeks.
5. Waking up in a small pool of spit-up from the baby you couldn't burp in the middle of the night is a wonderful way to start the morning.

Things big brothers do when they find themselves displaced from only-child status

1. Insist that they are a baby, too, complete with "goo-goo"-ing, needing to be burped ("Hey, if I can't even get your brother to burp, what makes you think you're any different?"), and wanting to be swaddled.
2. Try to mother their sibling. This involves speaking motherese so high that the neighbors' dogs are getting aggravated, and squeezing the baby's cheeks whenever they can get near the baby's face. Also a frequent request to hold the baby, which usually lasts for about twelve seconds and long enough to nearly give the baby whiplash (and the mommy a nervous tic).
3. Attempt to gain attention by any means necessary: shrieking, running in circles, demanding activities that require a parent's full attention ("Bath!" "We use scissors and glue!" "Let's sweep the ceiling fans!"), or simply trying to climb into the parents' laps, occupied or otherwise.
4. Occasionally engage in acts of helpfulness, so long as it can be on their terms. For instance, a child might take diapers to the trash and bring clean ones, but only under the guise of "diaper hero," and only if you make the sound of an airplane as they race through the house.
5. Become addicted to television, necessitating a painful withdrawal period when Mommy regains enough energy and determination to make the change.

Things my husband has done in the past few weeks to make me smile

1. Worked on learning and perfecting several Indian dishes. He even bought himself a tava and found an Indian grocery store for a few rarer ingredients.
2. Worked on his pool game. Odd to see on this list, I know, but going out to shoot pool makes him a happier and more content person all-around, and I like seeing him smile more.
3. Proved himself to be an able baby burper, which was sorely needed in these parts.
4. Is already planning our Thanksgiving dinner - my first ever away from extended family, which makes me sad.
5. Okayed the family budget to allow a purchase of several expensive, but sadly needed, new nursing bras. (I could have bought cheaper, but I decided to go with the brand that lasted me through over three years of nursing and only recently decided that enough was enough, already.

Things Sam has said recently that have cracked me up

1. "Okey-dokey, Smokey!"
2. Sitting on Santa's lap, asked what he wants: "A green shirt, and a blue shirt. And a short bus."
3. "Did Gabe crap his pants?"
4. When outside, waving goodbye to my mom: "Coming up next: going back to the couch!"
5. "Well, Mommy, what did you learn today?"

Things about this house that don't suck

1. Big clawfoot bathtub. Now that I'm not pregnant anymore, I can actually submerge myself again!
2. The boys' rooms are very close to our room. Sam can feel comfortable going to sleep in his own room at night, and I don't have to stumble too badly to get Gabe to then changing table in a sleepy stupor.
3. The kitchen has room for a largish table, compensating for what counter space it may lack.
4. It's within walking distance of many things, including the husband's pool hall.
5. A large fenced backyard is a nice place to be able to send Sam when I'm feeling like I'm about to go all Joan Crawford on his butt. ("No...more...little...cars!")

Things I love about this new kid already

1. He's so gosh-darn tolerant - of heel sticks (well, once he protests a bit, anyway), unpredictable and slightly dangerous big brothers, mommies who can't burp, etc.
2. He gives kisses. I'm serious; when he wants to nurse, he starts bobbing his head and planting kisses all around my mouth, complete with smacking sounds and puckered lips. He's not trying to latch on, either; I don't know where he learned what he's doing, but I hope he doesn't stop.
3. He's got that "new baby smell."
4. His eyes change color, going from grey to deepest blue.
5. He's chunking up already, filling out into little rolls of baby fat and deliciously round cheeks.

The hardest parts of being mom to two

1. With one baby, I could juggle housework and mom-work without too much difficulty. With two, I feel like something's got to give, and the house is lowest on the totem pole. Living in this much chaos, though, makes my nerves raw.
2. "Sleep when the baby sleeps" becomes a huge joke. I'm not laughing, though.
3. I just lost about fifty percent of my flexibility. I like to be able to fly by the seat of my pants when I want to, and now I can't.
4. Oh, my God, the laundry! The laundry!
5. The feeling as though everything is just flying by way too fast for me to keep up. I can barely make it through the day without collapsing; trying to stay organized is a laugh, and whenever I can stop to take stock of my surroundings, there are always at least ten things that catch my eye that I've neglected. I can only pray that we all are at least mostly clean, warm, and fed; anything else is a luxury.

The best parts of being mom to two

1. Sam loves Gabe. He introduces him to people he meets, and he keeps watch over him through the day. It's sort of like Cookie Monster watching a plate of snickerdoodles, true, but there's affection there.
2. I can relive Sam's infancy while watching Gabriel go through everything for the first time.
3. When Eric or I am holding one boy, and the other is holding the other boy, it feels balanced and cozy.
4. Morning wakeups can be a little more fun-filled, with one child chattering about his dreams and the other happily nursing and gazing at the streaks of early sunlight coming through the blinds.
5. There's never a moment of loneliness. (Conversely, I never have a moment alone, but it all works out in the end.)