Holy smokes, we’ve survived the first six weeks. We really didn’t think we would… back in week number one, we would think “six weeks” like an astronaut would think “home-cooked meal”. Back in week one-and-a-half, we would have a terrible day of trying to feed Marie-Hélène, then sleeping and then worrying about feeding her, and we would think that life as we knew it stopped. No more outings, no more freedom, no more time, no nothing. But lo and behold in week five, Mama felt like muffins and baked them, and for the first time in over a month, we prepared the weekly menu and shopping list like we used to. To us, it was the biggest sign that life was getting back to normal. Because normal for us, has a certain amount of organization… like laundry and shopping lists on Saturday and baking a weekday evening. And that week, we cooked two meals together… two meals that came from a recipe book and not a box from the freezer aisle. And in the evenings that week, we went for a walk – a power walk – because this whole ordeal has left Mama with only maternity clothes that fit, and Papa isn’t willing to share his wardrobe. From where we sit now, looking back, it hasn’t been so bad. Everyday, we fall a little more in love with our little pea. Before we fall asleep, we’ll laugh thinking about her funny faces and at six weeks… it’s still hard to believe we’re parents of a little girl that’s going to grow up! In the meantime, we cover her with kisses, because even when she cries (which isn’t often) she’s just too irresistibly cute…
