How has it been a month already?

Seriously, there is this paradox of time going on right now, where each day seems to pass slowly and almost lackadaisically, but when I look back and realize it was a month ago today that Jack was born, it doesn't seem possible. We haven't really been parents for a month, have we? There was this saying back in college, how if every week were big game week, we'd all be dead. I think I thought the same would be true about parenthood-- if every week were a week with a newborn baby, we'd all be dead. And yet we made it through the first week, and then three more. And we're not dead yet. And neither is Jack! Score one for us!

I had my first oh my god I really am a mom moment at my mommies group this week. One of the women was complimenting one of the babies on how she was holding her head up and I wanted to be like, "Oh Jack's been like from the start!" He really does have a very strong neck. But I heard it my head before I said it, luckily, and managed to keep it there. How obnoxious. Who even thinks stuff like that? But I didn't think it in a one-upsmanship sort of way. I thought it in an embarrassingly eager way, in a disproportionately proud kind of way. It seems strange to be proud of my son for something like the ability to hold his head up, especially since I had nothing to do with it really so pride seems like a misplaced emotion at best, and yet, there it is. So maybe those obnoxious moms that are always bragging about their kids are not really so much obnoxious as proud and just unable to contain themselves. I suddenly understand that more than I ever thought I could.

On the list of things that ARE socially acceptable for me to be proud of, on the other hand, is that I have finally caught a smile on film. Until yesterday, this was the best I could do:

My, how nicely my leg hair is in focus, Danny remarks. Well, I was excited! This was the first time Jack smiled while I had the camera out, and like the rookie I am, I blew it. Jiggly hands. I should be fired. There's actually a great story about Ruth Bader Ginsburg burning everything she cooked the first week of her marriage. Eventually her husband, also a very prominent lawyer, decided to take over the kitchen. So after 50 or however many years of being married, Ruth confesses that she'd burned everything on purpose all those years ago so that she wouldn't have to cook. Very tricky. I tried a similar tack with dirty diapers in the beginning, not putting them on tightly enough so they leaked and make a big mess, and I would tell Danny, "I'm fired!" He, unfortunately, was not as gullible as Mr. Ginsburg.

Anyway, back to the photos. Yesterday, after I changed one of the aforementioned diapers I have not been fired from changing, Jack decided that having dry pants was pretty much the best thing ever, and rewarded me with the following:


Look at those dimples! What a little sweetie! Happy one month, Jack!