I will not be writing you monthly letters of motherly love. However, I will take this opportunity to regularly record my personal groans and moans whereby I can point to documentation in the future.
For example, This week you grew a third lung.
At first I was proud, “Wow, what strong wind capacity my little bird has grown. It must be all of the extra feedings I’m suffering through in the middle of the night!” Now, it’s more like, ”F@cking- hell has Evolution finely-tuned that piercing shrill for millions of year to rouse even the most thick-headed, lazy-ass mother." You would think that I was allowing the subway rats to knaw on your little cashew ears during the 3 minutes a day I actually set you down and allow myself a shower.
That’s really all for now. You’re cute of course. Soft and silly. Whenever you wake-up you always have a “WTF, where am I?” look on your face for a full ten minutes. After laughing I always respond, “I know little Eaglet- how whack is this crazy world? I have no idea what’s going on here either. But I can mix a mean bottle of formula and jostle you around just enough for a burp but not to puke (usually). What more can an infant ask for?”