Babyhood begins...

It's already afternoon here in Finland,  so I'll write some today since I have nothing else to do right now! Well, that's a total lie since I COULD get up and clean up the apartment. My husband not-so-subtly implied that the place was a disaster before he went to work this afternoon, but hey, I'm feeding around the clock and snuggling and napping with my 4 week old in between (ok, and surfing the net with Aleksi on my lap, too because I don't need quite as much sleep as him), and my husband has yet to change a SINGLE DIAPER since we had our son, so I figure, he can straighten up the living room. Is that so wrong??? Plus if the messy apartment bugged him that much I doubt he would have spent the weekend going out drinking with his friends at the clubs downtown here in Tampere (the name of the city in Finland that we live in) Saturday night or sleeping all day yesterday to recover. I hope I'm not making Matti look awful--he asked permission before leaving me home with the baby to spend a few hours out with his friends, and I honestly didn't mind. He spends almost all his non-working time with us, (and a lot of his working time too, since he has a home office and does much from it) and the guy friends he was going out with are my friends too and came over for a few hours (before going to the clubs) to ooh and ahhh over Aleksi and talk with both me and my husband. I trust my husband completely, and I know his friends respect and admire his commitment to me, so it wasn't anything bad that he went out clubbing for a few hours while I snuggled at home and napped between nighttime nursings.

He does this cute 'I want the nipple' song when he's hungry. he starts breathing fast (like the tempo of an adult would have if hyperventilating), and opens his eyes to look around for it, and then adds vocals, in a soft, voiced 'ah, ah, ah, ah' with his breaths. There's an 'I want the nipple' dance, too, which involves him opening his mouth wide, and moving his head up and down and side to side (also known as the 'fish face' in my home), and he will start sucking on his hands or sleeve or a pillow or whatever else he finds before I have a chance to unhook the nursing bra. So cute. He is usually wide awake while nursing and his eyes shift all over the place like he's suspicious about the situation, and he has his hands out to his sides and fingers splayed like he is so serious and concentrating that he has to have his extremities all tensed up. So funny. He still sleeps all the time so I can't wait until he spends more awake time so we can start to communicate. I feel like he's still in his own premature baby little world and hasn't really registered that he's joined us in the outside world too much yet. I'm dying for the day he catches my eye and smiles, just so I know he knows I'm here and likes me. 

ANYWAY, I have a hard time remembering that he is supposed to still be in my TUMMY! He's nearly 4 kg (we don't use pounds here in Finland--pout), so I'm thankful I squeezed him out when he was closer to 3 kg. I will make a note on his due date what his weight is then so I can again thank my lucky stars that I wasn't pushing a ten-ish pound baby into the world!!! (I'm just guessing, at the rate he's growing at).

I clumsily dropped my newborn (just a couple inches-no harm done) from my arms to the padded changing table, when I was changing him in the middle of the night, but he bumped his head a bit and looked so pitiful with his floppy little body crumpling to the side in a little heap, and he let out such a mad little wail for sixty seconds after, that I felt like the worst mom EVER, and the entire next day kept having flashbacks of that moment. Then I was actually taking a couple digital pictures of him nursing at my breast, with my free hand, and the camera bumped his head (serves me right for trying to take such close range shots), and he got mad again. Didn't leave a bump or red mark or anything, but I just have GOT to be more careful!!!!!!!

So....crappy weather calls for indoor creativity, I'm finding, and I love baking. I can't imagine this little teeny guy ever being big enough to help me in the kitchen, but I guess that day will come before I know it. , ....I have this huge dread that my son will hate doing anything with me as soon as he realizes he has a choice! I know that's silly, but I never had any brothers, just grew up with my mom and myself, and I know lots about mom-daughter bonds, but nil about little boys, and I have this assumption that they want to run far far away from Mommy and assert their independence as soon as they can walk. Boys like to be near mommy as they get older, right? I hope so--I have a huge fear that my kid will want nothing to do with me so soon. Silly me.

Finnish muses-- I'm taking 'Beginning Finnish' at the technological university where I'm taking a few courses this fall (mostly self study courses, since there are very few courses taught in english, so I can be home with the baby and work on 'em), and so far I'm the star of the course, since I've been studying my 'Finnish for Foreigners' book I bought from the downtown bookstore for more than half a year. I can still only communicate like a 2 year old, if that, and am too embarrassed to ever practice anyway, especially within ear shot of my husband who is a bit critical of my pronunciation and speaks such perfect English that I feel embarrassed of my early efforts to learn his DIFFICULT language. This country really rocks in some respects--free health care, cheap insurances of ALL kinds, and very very very safe town we live in (hardly ANY violent crime EVER happens). Plus, I can get by with English since all Finns under 45 speak it, and I've been making friends. But man this language is sooo tough and the weather basically sucks from now until May. I'll see how I can handle it. Being from Hawaii, I sometimes dream of the beach...

I might have mentioned that the weather is ugly, and I'm just sitting on the couch with Aleksi on my lap who alternates between crying because he has to poop or fart (and that is tough on the little fellow), napping, and breastfeeding. He looks to me for help when he has those little frustrating poopy or farty moments, with a twinge of indignation at these indelicacies that accompany life here on earth.  Whenever he sends me those looks with his eyes as if he would file an official complaint about things if he could, I find myself guilty as sin and gushily apologizing to him that I'm the one who signed him up for such a messy, uncomfy situation that is living inside a human body, and I couldn't have come up with a more serene existence for him.  But hey, he grins like a fool when he is done pooping, so I guess there is a silver lining to this imperfect world...  

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