24 hours in the life of a Noob - Newborn in this case

It seems a million lifetimes ago when B went to Fort Lauderdale in high school for spring break every year with her friend Pfaff. It wasn't the typical high school raging spring break though, as they stayed with Pfaff's grandma each year and tried their best not to get too sunburned until the last day or so of break. Both of them freckled more than anything, and the beaches near her grandma's house seemed more full of senior citizens than rebel rousers, but they were beaches and grandma's house was free, so life was good.

All of the micro lifetimes ago and experiences like weeks in Ft. Lauderdale she ponders as little baby sleeps at last on her shoulder, still working hard to find comfort in the dark unknown space of sleep with the pacifier, but soothed at least to sleep this close to her stilled mama who's finally given up on lying her down for rest. And B wonders in the absence of work in the traditional sense for the first time in a long, long time, whether there is this state of being that from birth we already have this path of our leisure and our work to practice.

Baby's 8 hours of leisure each day comes in the form of munching on one of two soft, sophisticated and intricate mounds of flesh. These are the first forms baby seems to recognize, the first times when she plays (not always on point with feeding), and enjoys herself through the feeling of fullness and the entire smell and tactile experience of it all. After this 40 minutes - hour and a half of enjoyment, which true enough, does involve her some effort, she experiences baby's work - pooping and burping - both of which typically come at some deal of effort, pain, and expense to her and to mama or daddy, and occur repeatedly for at least an hour or so after the feeding festival. Someday though, as absorbed completely as they all 3 are currently in the cycle that repeats at least 8 times per day, it occurs poignantly to mama, that this time when baby and she and daddy and even the cat live in the cycle of eat, burp, diaper, diaper, diaper and repeat will someday only be a feint micro lifetime for mama (and probably daddy too), and at most a body memory for baby and one that, try as she may, she won't be able to recall.

What a strange and unusual journey we live. Sweet dreams Alia. Don't be afraid to sleep, Love. We all need the dark, still places to regenerate and create space for our bliss.