At our initial visit with the pediatrician, the doctor told us she was about a half pound lighter than where they would like her to be. We were given instructions to fatten her up a little. If there is one thing that the Jako's are good at, its feeding their kids. At Maive's next visit one week later she had gained back the half pound she lost and added another pound for good measure. Her nurse added some well intentioned comments, "Tell Mom she has been doing a great job getting up with her." As I started to process her presumed lack of paternal contribution to Maive's success, Maive peed all over the scale. Retribution delievered á la Maive.
As I'm sure my parents were and I bet their parents, Alya and I are completely gooey over each little milestone (and I use that term loosely). About a week and half ago Maive lifted her leg up and ALMOST rolled over. Alya was so excited, you would have thought she owned the Kentucky Derby winner. I won't be surprised if she showers the living room in champagne once Maive makes the full rotation. Sure, parenthood also comes with 3am feeds, dirty diapers, and changing your shirt right before you were going to go out because you forgot to use the burp towel. 364 days a year it's a thankless job, that is until they have their own kids. But, even then you become a grandparent - doing 3 hr shifts of diaper duty and acting as a 24/7 consultant still getting paid in the parental currency: smiles, cute faces, and that noise she makes when she's content.
The realization that you are inevitably turning into your parents is initially met with a fair bit of denial, followed closely by nausea. However, it's also met with a fair amount of respect.
g see hundreds of c-sections, it's a much different experience from the other side of the curtain. How could Maive be royalty without a few gray haired parents anyway?