While there was a lot in the internets to catch my attention this week, the death vigil for the Elephant Whisperer is perhaps the most touching. My husband and I were both moved by the mental image of a train of elephants making the trek to mourn their strangely-nosed friend.
Learning to be a mother has pretty much consumed my life for the past three weeks. We eat, sleep, get the basic chores done and not a whole lot else. My iPod Touch is a breastfeeding mom's lifesaver. We listen to music. I read books and websites while G feeds and try not to laugh uproariously and shake him off the breast (I just discovered the Bloggess!). And I just downloaded a voice recorder app that I've been using to record story ideas, blog post rants and other things that I don't want to forget but can't type fast enough with one hand. It's easier to take dictation after the fact...
At the moment, though, G is sleeping in the crook of my bent leg. We're sprawled out on my desk, a.k.a. the queen-size bed, propped up with pillows. Bills, books, business cards and diapers are scattered about. It's a rare moment affording me the luxury of two-handed typing, so I'm quickly catching up on my correspondence and blogging.
I say quickly, because what I really must do is nap. G is a dream child, not a screamer, but he does have bad nights. Last night, all he wanted to do was sleep with us; every time I put him down, he began grumbling, whining, chittering. So I didn't sleep so well and am planning on making it up this afternoon. Who knew motherhood would come with so many opportunities for daytime snoozing?