I’d been thinking about doing this anyways, but this post on Jezebel discussing society’s obsession with women’s stomachs along with the links to The Belly Project and The Shape of a Mother convinced me. I posted tons of pictures of my bump during my pregnancy, why shouldn’t you know what happens (dum dum dum) AFTER. I could write pages and pages about how I feel about my new stomach and how depressed I am after shopping for jeans yesterday and how I detest the phrase “battle scars” and how even though I love my baby I sort of feel like he ruined my body, not that it was all that spectacular before but at least it wasn’t covered in stretchmarks…but that would get really long and boring and be full of self-pity. So I’ll shut up and just post.

Happy Birthday Baby Evan! For some reason I’ve felt like 6 weeks is some sort of huge milestone we were just working towards, and after today the baby experience will be totally different. I have no actual medical or even anecdotal basis for this feeling, but I still feel better now that I’ve made it. The next milestone in my head is 3 months, but that one is based more on my desire to dress him in the adorable 3 month baby clothes than my desire to reach any major developmental milestones. Although I am desperate to hear his laughter – right now he just makes this tiny giggling noise while he’s sleeping. And sometimes when he’s smiling he sort of gulps the air like he’s ABOUT to laugh but stops short of a real noise. I guess I just haven’t done anything funny enough to deserve laughter. I’m pretty sure he’s waiting for me to hurt myself in a fairly serious manner – falling over the coffee table, slipping in a puddle of baby puke, breaking a toe on the baby swing, having a nipple fall off while trying to pump – you know, something REALLY hilarious…and then he’ll laugh.

My friend Emmy came over today and spent the afternoon saying wonderful things about my baby. Have I mentioned that I really like Emmy? She totally didn’t mind that he spent the 30 minutes she was holding him farting and/or pooping. I have a constant fear the baby is going to throw up all over someone – especially someone who’s just “token” holding him (Oh sure I’ll hold your baby, but only because I can’t think of a polite way to say GOD NO) – but he managed to keep most of it in. Tomorrow my two oldest friends come to visit (SO EXCITED) and we’ll see if he feels the need to christen them as official members of the Baby Evan Loves Me So Much He Threw Up On Me Club. I’m thinking of having t-shirts made.