Eleanor’s first week is coming to a close. It seems much longer than a week ago that we headed into hospital for Emily to be induced. 
It’s been a fantastic week. And if, right after her birth, we felt like we had to take care of a little stranger, we now feel like we know and love Ellie for what she is: our daughter.
Over the course of the week we’ve had all kinds of visitors, phone call, e-mails, blog comments wishing us well. And we’ve had a particularly nice exchange with our friend Noa, in Israel. Noa and Uri had their first child, Yanotan (Tantan) in Chicago right before we got married and right before Uri and Noa decamped back to Israel (where they have subsequently had a second child). I remember being struck by how relaxed both Uri and Noa were with Tantan. And, more than that, I was struck by the fact that they were having fun. No one tells you that you’re going to have fun in those early weeks. I’ve kept them in mind over the past week and I can honestly declare that this week has been fun. Sure we’ve been awake in the middle of night soothing a crying Eleanor, and we’ve had our share of new-parent anxiety (Is she pooping enough? The answer, as of today, is an unqualified “yes.” My lord, yes.). But getting to know Eleanor’s various faces (relaxed, disguntled, sleepy, milk-drunk) and the pleasure of holding a newborn has been amazing.
So amazing, in fact, that on day 3 I started getting a little sad for the fact that she won’t be a newborn for long. Soon (well, in 3 months to be precise) she’ll be a 3 month old, and then a 6 month old and then…well you get it. That’s when Noa, without prompting, sent an e-mail with following thought, which captured my feelings exactly: “I remember thinking it can’t possibly get any better than this newborn era, and being almost nostalgic for it even as we were going through it. And then it got even better…” I love that. And I’m sure she’s right.
In other news, we’re looking ahead to our move in about 7 weeks time. Every once in a while, Em and I have some trepidation about the move (we call it the “Northfield Freakout”). We have no family in the area and neither of us have lived in a small town before. We were having such feelings on Saturday when the mail arrived with the perfect antidote: one of my Carleton colleagues and his wife sent along a baby Carleton College t-shirt. Such a nice gesture. It made us feel so good about the community we are joining. We also got our (unexpectedly racy) Minnesota license plates, so we are well on our way to being Minnesotans. And now we can’t wait.
