Baby Harlow has been on this earth for 18 days now. Not counting that all-inclusive vacation she spent in my uterus (I hear the drinks are free, you can sleep all day and the temperature is fantastic).
In that short amount of time, I have gotten to know her pretty well. Especially since we are in week three of NEWBORN LOCKDOWN.
A word about NEWBORN LOCKDOWN: Does everybody do this? I wanted to take Mazzy to a birthday party yesterday with Harlow in a sling and my husband showed me an article on the internet that basically said— "what stupid person would take a newborn in public especially to a germ-infested event like a toddler's birthday party????" I stayed home. DAMN YOU, INTERNET!
Anyway, I have no idea who Harlow will grow up to be. But these are the nine things I know to be true about my baby thus far…
1) She is here on a mission. A mission to destroy all the cereal in our home.
Every time I pour myself a bowl of cereal, Harlow starts crying. It would be fine if the cereal was dry, but Harlow waits for me to pour the milk and then plans her display of dissatisfaction for the exact moment when the milk pour makes the cereal rise— the rise that lets you know your bowl is prepped and ready for eating. Do you know what happens when you tend to a crying baby at this crucial moment in CEREAL TIME? Your precious flakes/puffs/clusters die a terrible drowning death and you are better off tossing it all in the trash than trying to stomach that soggy disaster.
2) Someone took a bite out of her right ear.
I don't know who did it but it definitely happened while she was on the inside. Was there a Mike Tyson shaped sperm that got pissed when Harlow made it to the egg first? Is this what they mean by a "hostile uterus"? In any case, the bite looks permanent. But… if you're going to have a lifelong defect, a small bite out of your ear is a pretty damn cute one.
3) She's an over-acheiver.
Girl dropped her umbilical cord in five days. If that doesn't say "ADVANCED", I don't know what does. I bet that's a question on preschool admissions applications. And everyone knows where you go to preschool determines where you go to college…
4) She's secretly laughing at me.
Every time Harlow spits-up, she makes sure to avoid the burp cloth and aim directly for my hair and cleavage. She either knows we're running low on laundry detergent, or… SHE'S GOT A CRUEL SENSE OF HUMOR. Next time she does it, I'm gonna see if I can catch her laughing while I try unsuccessfully to wipe regurgitated milk out of my hair with a wet paper towel. Pretty sure this is how babies entertain themselves.
5) She might be a vampire.
The girl sleeps all day and loves to stay up all night. Plus, she freaks out every time she passes directly under the hall light. Her eyes squinch up, her face turns angry red and she winces like Bill Compton caught in the sun. Maybe that's who bit her ear off?
6) She is THE COUNT reincarnated.
Harlow doesn't have a loud peircing cry. It's kind of low and back in the throat. When she gets really upset, her cry stops and starts abruptly, almost like an evil laugh. The first time I heard it, I stopped mid-diaper change and racked my brain for the soundalike. Donald Sutherland? Jeremy Irons? No… Finally, it came to me. THE COUNT!!!! Yep, my beautiful baby sounds like the number-obsessed muppet from Sesame Street. So… if you were wondering what happened to the soul of Jerry Nelson (the voice of The Count who passed away earlier this year), he just had a bath, sucked on my boob and is doing just fine.
Harlow either does not like to be swaddled or she enjoys the challenge of getting out of one. Muslin, SwaddleMe, Miracle blankets… so far, my daughter has not been presented with a swaddle she cannot beat. Next step is fastening a chain with a padlock around her arms and selling tickets.
8) She's a budding fashionista.
I went to a wedding once where the bride changed her outfit seven times. Yes, SEVEN TIMES. Similarly, Harlow likes to wear every item in her wardrobe every single day. Just to make this preference super clear, she spits up, poops or pees on whatever she's wearing when she is ready to move on to the next assemble.
9) She's adorable.
Adorable in an old-man-constantly-grunting-like-he's-got-severe-constipation kind of way. But adorable all the same.