the rest of the household

Some folks have been inquiring how the cats and the husband-guy are handling the new baby. Here's the report:
Zap Mama – my co-dependent, neurotic freak – much to my surprise, became again the mom she once was. For the first couple weeks of Isaac’s life, she ran to him at every sound he made. She stared at us while he cried, seeming to demand what exactly we might be doing to her baby. Now, she doesn’t rush to his side all the time – only at the most desperate-sounding of squeals, (like when I put him down while attempting to drain my mac of mac n cheese fame, aka my lunch, and he bawled like I’d abandoned him in a dark alley). More recently, Zap has instead put most of her energy toward running under foot while I carry baby. - In essence, things are back to normal. Emily is in need of super-attention since her little brother entered the picture, though these days she doesn’t always bolt at the first sign of a wiggle or a gurgle. When he fusses, she stares at him, comes to no conclusion about his origins or purpose, and leaves the room.

And then there is Mike. As anyone who knows him might expect, husband-guy has been a great help to me and has held up pretty well in handling the first weeks of parenthood. And he’s learning to give me less advice on breastfeeding, although he still wanders into that mine field once in a while. There are cracks here and there, however. I try not to mention the cut onions I found in the cabinet with the dishes, or the groceries that went missing for two days until I asked "Didn’t we buy watermelon?" and the bag was located out on the patio.

I think that couples must survive on the memory of each other in these first weeks. You have the vaguest of notions that the man over there, the one with the red-ringed eyes repeating "Take your foot out of your diaper. Take your foot out of…there you go!" resembles someone you once had a thing for, that there was a day not terribly long ago when you had enough time, inclination, and energy to make a baby.