Our nurse who is a regular Tuesday visitor has been diligently and patiently answering all of our new parent questions. Often we are consuming her with questions regarding poop color and gas. When she gets a chance to offer her thoughts outside of our many concerns she drops fun little anecdotes on us. The most recent one involved a culture (I don’t know which one, but I believe it to be Asian) who describes the first three months of a babe’s life as the “100 days of crying”. That sounds about right. I am glad she mentioned that to us– had she not put it in my head that an entire culture refers to this time as a period of wahs I may have called in an exorcist. The crying is almost always cute… almost. I found myself today talking to Ryker… he was shaking and red-faced trying to let out a toot when I looked at him in the eyes and said, “hey. you.” Surprisingly, he quieted. Then I gently asked, “why aren’t you nice to me. I am nice to you?” He blinked his big baby eyes maybe three times, threw his binky, farted, smiled, then threw a heiress worthy fit. Now, I am typing with one hand and rocking a car seat with the other, silently praying that my sweet child finds reason to nap. I have a hamper overflowing with tiny clothes covered in spit up and poop that is fragrancing the bedroom that desperately needs to find its way to the wash.