1 Mother 2 Another

Home yesterday from the hospital with Madeleine Lucy.  I learned the hard way that when my doctor said, “Don’t lift anything bigger than your baby," the car seat didn’t count as “baby."  I almost died picking her up out of the car.  My mom had the house spotless, clean sink in the kitchen and fresh linens on our beds awaiting our return; those little touches only your mom thinks of that make such a difference.  I can’t believe our little family has grown from two to three.  I’m supposed to be the mommy now; the one with all the answers.  I have no idea what I’m doing.  How long do you think it will take everyone to figure that out?  I look at her squirming obliviously on the changing table; am I supposed to talk to her?  Sing to her?  Tell jokes?  Politely ignore her nakedness?  I thought maybe the mommy instinct would just magically come in, like my milk supply.  Maybe it's on its way.