Warning: Things are going well

This is a post about the fact that things are going well. So if things are not going well in your corner of the world, go have a drink. Or read this and smack me for my bragging. But I think people who do not yet have babies but who are likely to have babies (pregnant-after-IF women who are, say, 39 weeks pregnant, and of course FERTILE WHORES) might like to know that things CAN go well.

Summary Version: I live in the land of fairy tales, where unicorns eat roses out of my hand as I comb my golden locks with a golden comb and drink golden tequila.

More Detailed Version: For the first few weeks of Bun Bun's life, Mr. Bunny kept saying things like We have an easy baby! Or...She sleeps so well! Or She never cries! And I'd freak out because it was so obviously hubristic to say such things, and plus, you have no idea what kind of baby you have when she's only a few weeks old. But enough time has passed that it seems only fair to acknowledge Bun Bun is in fact an easy baby.

For me, the tipping point came a couple of weekends ago, when we cleaned the house. While we normally clean once a month, we haven't bothered since a week before Bun Bun was born. We stay on top of things, so it's not like there were stacks of dirty dishes crawling with cockroaches or anything, but the dust drifts and trails of breastmilk droplets had gotten pretty horrifying.  (To be honest, I'm extremely neat, so it was only my iron will that kept me from ripping my face off at the state of things.) The night before, I was convinced we could never pull it off. I mean, we have a brand new baby--how on earth were we going to clean an entire two-story house? I imagined Bun Bun abandoned in a pile of old newspapers, screaming her lungs out, while Mr. Bunny hit the nearest bar and I hid in a closet, clutching a duster and trembling. But no. It went off without a hitch. In fact, turns out it's a lot harder to clean when nine months pregnant than with a month-old baby. Because unlike a fetus, your partner can hold the baby some of the time. (Try that with a fetus and you'll NEVER get it back in your uterus.) And since Mr. Bunny's primary duty is vacuuming, he could do it with Bun Bun in a baby carrier. Aside from taking a break to feed her a couple times, it was much like a normal housecleaning day. Ergo, we have an easy baby.

So, what does it mean to have an easy baby? Well, it clearly doesn't mean that breastfeeding is fun and trouble-free. If you're reading this on two hours of sleep with mastitis just so you can have the pleasure of smacking me, do keep in mind the BLOODY NIPPLES of yore. But although nursing is still not perfect, it's all been made much more bearable because Bun Bun only eats every two hours during the day. And she eats very quickly. She sucks down the contents of a single breast in about five minutes and is satisfied. So this means a nursing session only takes about half an hour. Which means that I can get shit done in between. Like, I made these.

Lavender sachets for the Bun Bunnery. And now all her tiny clothes smell lovely.

And, Bun Bun sleeps at night and only requires one middle of the night feeding. Generally she eats at 9 PM, at 3:30 AM, and at 8. That's right. 8 AM. Which is morning by any definition. And because she only uses one side at a time I can pump the other side at 3:30 AM, thereby slowly building up a stash without any particular effort.

AND...she is easily soothed and does not cry unless greatly aggravated. She grunts and squeaks a lot, but all those baby soothing techniques we studied up on have been totally unnecessary. Which sort of makes it all the more alarming when she does cry, but she has never cried for more than about thirty seconds.

I understand that by putting all of this in writing, I am ensuring that it will end today. That from this day forth she will insist on being fed every thirty seconds and never sleep again and scream ceaselessly. But just as I wanted to record the details of how breastfeeding was not completely easy so that I could never pretend it was, I want to record the fact that pretty much everything else HAS been easy, so that I can never pretend it wasn't.

And yet, this will not prevent me from complaining about various things, as I am an ungrateful cow.

I'm ready for my smackings now.