There's that old saying: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results makes you a crazy person. This is parenting, at least in the first two weeks. You stumble down the repetitive path of change diaper - feed baby - burp baby - swaddle - get baby to sleep. This cycle restarts every 2.5 hours, regardless of how long the baby fed or slept or burped. Sometimes you can get a full hour and a half of sleep while you await the beginning again... and other times you get 15 minutes.
I don't work well like this. I work best building things up, contributing small goals towards something larger. I love the process of identifying small tasks, taking apart a huge project by naming the sum of its parts. I'm good at it. What I am not good at is floundering.
Today was a flounderer. Last night was mostly sleepless; I felt myself getting bummed as the sun went down. I didn't want to go into the bedroom, where turning the lights out meant adhering to the 2.5-hour schedule when you wanted to sleep for 8. Today I cried on and off. I took no photos and I stayed off of Facebook, where people's appetite for photos of our child is insatiable (and, frankly, some days quite stressful).
It was a bad day.
These fuzzy days don't feel like building anything. They feel like surviving. When I look back at October 26, 2012, it will be a day on which I won't have accomplished anything.
Except my son is alive. He's fed, rested and clean. His legs seem the slightest bit chunkier.
So I guess we're building something.