People. I voluntarily watched an episode of According to Jim.

Thank god for BBCAmerica on demand. I have watched the Spiderman dance on Coupling approximately 15 times and laugh right out loud each time. Poor KC. Never fails to wake him up. On the other hand, it's the least he can effing well do. I cannot wait till I can start pumping and make him take over a feeding or two.

Mind you, right now it means I am forced to sit down and rest; I have been overdoing it the past few days. I know this for several disgusting reasons that made themselves plain at 4am, freaking me the hell out. So today, I did almost nothing. I made sure to get everything I needed downstairs in one trip and parked my ass on the couch. Still not allowed to drive, so I walked Leah to school, this time using an Infantico sling that I did not realize had been handed down to us; better than wrangling the heavy stroller down the porch steps. And then I came back, parked my ass on the couch again, and proceeded to alternate feeding with napping. Nothing is more relaxing than napping with a seven pound kiddo sprawled on your chest.

A friend came to pick us up and take us to Adam's first doctor's appointment. We saw the new guy in the practice, who is approximately nineteen years old and a dead ringer for Steve from Blue's Clues. But a very nice guy. (He was the doc on rounds while we were there and after the exam he wheeled the baby back to me himself, and also brought me coffee.) He seemed happy with everything and said to keep it up.

Once I got home, it was back to the couch before having to walk and pick up Leah from practice; one of her classmate's parents stopped us on the way back and offered us a ride. We're just around the corner from the school, or I would've said yes; seriously, the sheer amount of kindness from people astounds me sometimes.

Of course, there was the dad I was chatting with about the weather, and when we both remembered a warm Christmas several years back, he said, "Oh, yeah, you're about my age, right? Mid forties?"

Mid thirties, actually.

"Oh god."

I tried to make him feel better by saying I have a newborn and probably look tired and old by default, and then I got a whiff of stale beer, so, uh, it probably doesn't matter. Heh.

When I got home KC said, "What are we doing for dinner?" and I told him he was making grilled cheese and tomato soup for himself and for Leah. When I make up my mind to blend into my couch I don't do it in half-measures.

Tomorrow should be more of the same; KC is off, so he is doing Leah-wrangling and then we are going to visit my grandfather for the morning; he hasn't seen the baby yet.

Look, many of my more amusing stories from the week revolve around diapers, and I made a promise, didn't I? I keep my promises, dammit!