I’m writing this with one hand. Actually, more like one thumb. That’s because I’m holding my precious daughter, Emma Caroline, in my left arm on my chest.
She’s sleeping after a rough patch on her second days as a Kilroy. Apparently she got the memo that nothing is ever easy for a Kilroy.
Things I have learned through 36 hours with a newborn:
Time is no longer measured the same.
A Vulcan will tell you that a second is a second and a minute is a minute and an hour is an hour.
Unless you have a newborn.
When you have a newborn a second can be an hour. A minute can be a second. And an hour can be an entire afternoon.
Time is warped with a newborn. 3 am and 3 pm — same thing. Newborn’s scoff at time. They mock the clock.
But when she’s sleeping on your chest, you just want that clock to stop, time to stand still, and exist completely in that moment forever.
Gas is for REAL.
Gassy babies are very unhappy babies. Emma cried like a wide receiver trying to draw and pass interference call. Her face was red and she shrieks loud.
Eventually she worked all that gas out of her little body and was content again. It taught us a valuable lesson: Burp. Burp. Burp.
Babies smell soooo good.
I’m sniffing her head as I write this and I think I’m getting baby-smell high.
Being curious and being a Googleholic, I searched, “Why do babies heads smell soooo damn good?” And found an answer.
Researchers aren’t entirely sure what causes that baby smell, though there are a few theories: Some speculate that it comes from their sweat glands, or that it’s the lingering scent of vernix caseosa, the substance that covers babies when they’re born and is washed off after birth.
So Emma smells sooo good because she has baby goo still in her hair. Good to know.
Emma rocks.
Don’t @ me.