It really is like they say: So hard and so amazing at the same time.

Well, well, well. Look at me! Typing and everything. Yoga ball plus wrap carrier, equals hands-free precious minutes. It's like this y'all, wrap the baby up against you, sit on the ball and bounce. Sleepity sleep. Sleepity sleeping is what I should be doing also, but I'm so happy when the sun is out or even if it's cloudy, I'm just so happy that I am still functioning. Night time feels like the long dark time of the soul in comparison. At night, I always wish I'd slept more during the day, but if I follow the advice of "sleep when he sleeps", I would for real be doing nothing but feeding him and sleeping and as an adult human, I need just a tad bit more going on in a day than that. Else, I feel lost to the world...Like an isolated milk machine, floating in space with a baby, off in the farthest regions of the universe.

He is 31 days old now. Holy moly. Anyone who has talked to me has heard how hard it is. Sound complainy? You've probably not done it or forgot how it was, otherwise, you know what I mean.

I frequent a forum for new mothers at babycenter.com and we are all saying the same thing: Oh my god, I love my child but bloody hell!! SO HARD!! And all anyone can say that's past that point is: it will get better.

It has gotten a touch easier. The first 2 weeks are true tests of endurance both mentally and physically. Full, to the limit, grind your sorry ass into the ground tests of endurance.

Waaah, waah waah you say. Maybe. Let me say though, that after your body stops feeling like it will die from lack of sleep and shock and your breasts stop feeling like your baby has razors in his mouth and you stop wondering if you will lose your mind permanently...the body starts to settle in to the routine.

I wake every 2hours from shallow dreams of needing to feed Leon, so that I can go do it for real. It hurts less now and he looks at me and even smiles sometimes when he sees them coming. He shakes his head around and snorts in anticipation like a little pig rooting for truffles.

During the day, he wiggles his arms and legs and tries out all his facial expressions when he's not sleeping. The second he is hungry, WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH. As if he was never fed before, and never will be fed again. I guess he has no memory yet.

Piles of laundry and dust and paper plates are rounded up when we find a burst of energy. Food is of the instant variety only. I've never been less picky about food in my life. Is it edible? Great, put it in my mouth. Chew chew chew and done, moving on.

I no longer notice that my top is covered with breast milk stains, or that I'm wearing the same pajama bottoms 2 days in a row. Gross? You bet, but who cares. Eventually, I will run a brush through my hair again or maybe even glance in a mirror. Not yet.

All the things I wondered about before having a baby...Will it really be like that? Will my house be a mess? Will I find it hard to get a moment to brush my teeth? Yes, yes and yes.

At first, I needed to pivot on the thought that these difficulties would pass and he would get bigger and sleep longer and feed less. Now, I know that one set of problems probably just follows another. However, I think it's starting to sink in that having a child isn't about waiting for it to get easy. It doesn't. It's about getting used to a life of challenges and adaptation. About accepting that this is life now and y'all (by y'all I mean me) best get used to it real fast.

I like the idea of getting the hang of it though. It's for Leon. It's a much better reason than worrying about my princessy need to sleep 9 hours uninterrupted or read an entire book in one sitting or spend hours in the kitchen making food that will be eaten in 20 minutes.

After just coping and surviving each moment as it came for the first 2 weeks, I can start to breathe a little and appreciate what's happening in the moment instead of fearing and dreading it. It's still tough. On the body that is... the mind too. I fear depression setting in, simply from the taxing of my physical and mental reserves, but for now, I'm OK. So is Leon and that's what matters. We are OK.

Ramble, ramble. I'm still only getting 2 hours of sleep at a time and no more than 5 or 6 a day so forgive me if I seem retarded.

As an aside: The snow is falling in huge fluffy clumps outside, as if one big ass feather pillow is being emptied from above. The sky is the same grey/white colour as the ground. Might as well lay back on the couch, with Leon on my stomach, snoring his baby sleep snore and watch those flakes fall. Perhaps I'll close my eyes and do a little of my own snoring if I'm lucky.