Wake me up when September ends

I spent the better part of this year being pregnant and when I finally gave birth in August, I hung up a sign that said “wake me up when September ends” and went into hibernation. And by hibernation, I meant the kind where I have to wake up every 3 hours to feed a hungry baby, burp the baby, express milk, change the baby and try to make him go back to sleep before it’s time for the cycle to start again.

Which in actual sleeping terms, is the opposite of hibernation.

Amidst the frenzy, I woke up this morning to find that September has bitten the dust. We’re into the final quarter of the year, F1 fever is has come and gone, drama season is starting and I’m as exhausted as ever.

In other news, Finn is 5 weeks old. He spends a longer time awake, responds to our voices, gurgles when he’s happy and is getting chubbier by the day. Every morning after his bath, I do the thigh test. It’s where I bite his thigh to see how chubby it is and so far, it’s still hovering at the not-chubby-enough mark. The husband says normal people use a measuring tape for this sort of thing but he doesn’t understand that I’m also measuring the firmness, bounciness and juiciness at the same time. Besides, it’s so much more fun this way. I just took a bite this morning and in my expert opinion, I’d say give it another month or so and it’ll be just right.

He’s also developing a quirky sense of humor. After his feed earlier, he made a pack of poop and started grinning goofily. Like “hur…hur hur hur…hur…”

We couldn’t agree on a nickname for him so we’re all calling him by different things. Tru calls him baby Finn, Kirsten calls him di-di (little brother), the husband calls him Finn Finn and I call him handsome.

I think he likes mine best.