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four weeks

Elijah is four weeks old today. Does that count as a month? A month less three days? It's been... well, it's been long.

my sweet third baby, with his tongue out just like his brothers

There have been beautiful moments, certainly, like when I was cleaning for company and Harvey asked, "Do you want me to hold the baby so you can vacuum?" Zion even helped by reading them all a story.

big brothers helping

There have been normal moments too, like when I asked Harvey if he could grab a baby blanket off the couch he replied, "I think I've done enough for Elijah today."

And then there have been downright difficult moments. Lots of them. Zion has done a lot of hitting. Whenever a stranger asks him "How do you like your baby brother?" the poor guy breaks down and cries, "I WANTED A GU-GURL!"

enough love to cover disappointment... probably

It is fair to say that, like Zion, we've all been a little up and down. Elijah is cute and we love him, but we are exhausted and overwhelmed. The chores get harder every day as he gets older and more difficult to put down. I feel panic-attack-level trapped by having to walk circles around a house I can't clean. I jiggle a baby and walk around and around, spying dirty laundry I can't pick up and letters from MassHealth I can't deal with, mentally tallying all the baffling pieces of minutia I have to attend to whenever I get a free second. Which is never.

Then again, life is often beautiful and unmanageable at the same time. It's like uphill climb, but then you get to roll down at the end.


Whatever that means.

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