Stop reading now if you don't want too much information. The thing is, I didn't know that there was anything out of the ordinary about Jonah's delivery until after everything was said and done, and it's probably for the best. I mean, I guess they don't tell the laboring mother the details of how things aren't exactly as they're supposed to be, right? For starters, Jonah was face-up, not the traditional face down, and I guess that put a lot of stress on him. Poor little guy, like being born wasn't stressful enough. His cord was prolapsed. He had what they call meconium staining, which basically means that he pooped during delivery, then ingested said poop. And also, he was a very scary greyish color. Not your happy-go-lucky delivery. And about the epidural? I don't know if I could have done it without one because, although I could feel no pain, I knew the OB was pulling and prying (in the sort of way you know the dentist is pulling and prying on your teeth, even though you can't technically feel it) to speed Jonah's arrival. Yikes.
But the Lord was watching out for all of us, and now we're blessed to have such a cuddly little baby who giggles and coos and sleeps more than we ever thought possible. Really, truly, is a two month old baby supposed to sleep for eight hours at night?! If he was the first baby, I'd be waking him up to eat . . . HA! Not this time! In fact, this time all rules are out the window. The reason I mention this? Our lovely baby sleeps each and every night on his jolly little belly. Do I worry? Of course I do; I've read what the doctors and researchers say about "back to sleep." In fact, I was a huge proponent, appalled and aghast at others who put their babies to sleep on their stomachs. And now I guess the shoe is on the other foot. When Jonah sleeps on his back he gets a good 20 minutes, give or take a little, of solid sleep. Then he starts this horrible wheezing/coughing/gasping/shrieking sound that I just can't deal with, even if he is the second baby! (The reason: he does not latch well while nursing, thus swallowing tremendous amounts of air, and needing to burp numerous times over that 20 minute span, which he cannot do on his back. But that's a story for another time.) In any case, I truly do not think that we are doing the wrong thing and trust me, I've been over and over and over it in my head, in that OCD way that I have of thinking of these things.
So Jonah is nearing 2 1/2 months, and he weighs in at a whopping 14 pounds already. (At his 2 month doctor visit, so who knows- maybe he's gained another 5 or so since then.) He's wearing Joshua's hand-me-downs that Joshua wore at five and six months, and he's outgrowing them with amazing speed. Did somebody secretly shoot my breastmilk full of fat and steroids while I was sleeping my way through the first part of the delivery? How in the world did we manage to have two babies at entirely opposite ends of the spectrum? It's not fair to Jonah, really, since we expect him to be oh so much older than only 2 months. Surely he should be able to hold his head completely steady at all times . . . surely he can go to sleep all by himself . . . surely he'll be sitting soon on his own . . .
Joshua has set the bar so high that our expectations are probably unrealistic.
Especially when it comes to speaking, thinking and reasoning. Can I just say for the record that Joshua is a genius? He thinks so abstractly, and in such a wonderfully young way. I'll admit I sometimes think that if I have to pretend to be a bulldozer, forklift, or bobcat conversion - no joke - one more time, that I might officially lose it . . . but he wants so badly for these things (and more, of course) to talk with him and be his friends. On the way to Gymboree today, we passed a white dump truck. 
"Hello big white dump truck, where are you going?" Joshua asks in his little sing-songy voice.
"Hi, Joshua, I'm going to the construction site to do some work," I reply in a gruff voice.
"Oh. We're driving on the freeway. Are you behind me now?" And on it goes, until we see another vehicle that Joshua would like to speak with. (His current favorite? "Only left bulldozer." Translation - the only bulldozer left at the construction site, presumably sad by being abandoned by all of the other vehicles.)
These are the conversations have every single day, countless times a day. Not that I'm complaining . . .
The funniest thing, though, is his new use of slang. How he now says "yeah" for yes, and says it oh so nonchalantly. You'd think he was a teenager. Or how he announced one day that "Daddy is Dad, and Mama is Mom, and I am Josh." Whew, I don't know if I can keep up. One boy oh so old, and another just starting to gurgle and smile and discover the world. I can only imagine the things that lie ahead.
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