
But I love the little guy. I admit that I stress constantly about nursing, time management, sleeplessness, giving attention to my other two and much more. But all in all, Jake is an absolute joy. I just want to squeeze him to pieces, bury my face in the little folds on his neck and rub my cheek on his round little belly. The wide range of faces he makes are too much---spanning from the "I'm drunk as a skunk on milk" face, to that face the Giant Stay-Puffed Marshmallow man makes when the Ghostbusters cross streams into the portal.
Even his crying is cute to me. He'll give these little tiny "wah's" sometimes that really just mean, "Um, I'm not entirely happy right now and I'm not sure why, but I wanted to let you know." When he's hungry, he's usually convinced we're NEVER going to feed him again--and you can really hear the rage in his voice. This usually culminates in either silent enraged exhale crying or this adorable little billy goat sounding cry. Both are crazy cute and exasperating at the same time.
I have so much to write about, but I just haven't had the energy to do it. So this post is mainly just an exercise to keep me in the habit. And on that note, I hear Jacob's little "If you think this is bad, wait until I get REALLY peeved" cry, so I guess I'd better wrap it up.