It's Tuesday and cold and December and dark and my warm sleepy baby is draped here across me. I've been luxuriating in him all day. These past two weeks of work have been absolute hell and goddamnit what was I thinking?

I thought, before, that I cared about my students. And maybe I will again someday, but really and completely, not at the expense of my three-week-old baby. In the end, it's just a job. I almost quit--I just felt so unsupported at work and then Jeff and Ossie have been so desperate at home--he's just plain too young to leave with a fucking bottle of breastmilk.

Anyway. So today, the day after I finished just about all of my grading, feels luxurious. I took a long nap with baby Oz, worked on a puzzle, drank coffee, and listened to the radio. I moved slow, inside and out, today.

Jeff's home with a movie and dessert. I have to write emails to far-flung friends and begin to think about the coming holidays. But not just yet. It's still just the day after yesterday and I missed some of this kid's smiles (I know how goofilicious I sound, believe me--but this kid's smiles are unbelievable. Like crack rock) and I ain't doing nothing else tonight but watching him.

Topics for future entries, some of which may actually not be baby related, I think: Scrap books and how much I HATE THEM; Cloth diapering and other Unsuccessful Attempts (so far) at misc. hippie practices; Gender things: motherhhod & work; stay-at-home parenting & loss of identity.

But now I must make yet another contribution to the great never-ending diaper landfill. Ta--