They are a changin...

A few things have changed around our house in the last seven weeks or so. The arrival of our second daughter, whom we lovingly call "Fat Baby", has tipped the scales in favor of female dominance in the house. We always knew we would love her as soon as she made an appearance, but some of the changes that she has wrought in the house are completely unexpected.

- I cook now. A lot. Some of it is good, some not so much, but I have dinner on the table almost every night. I also make a big breakfast on Saturday, and have learned how to make cookies. From scratch. This goes against some of the major tenents by which I have lived my life, so I'm trying not to crush this burgeoning enjoyment of serving edible food to my family.

- Personal hygiene has taken a big hit. I am attempting to adhere to a strict "every-other-day" shower schedule to keep the flies at bay. I'm not always successful in getting a shower, and have been known to wear the same outfit for a few days straight. I used to scoff at the moms on makeover shows that claimed they only had time for a five minute beauty routine, but now I realize that having five minutes to scratch on some eyeliner is a rare blessing. I'm grateful if I get to shampoo my hair, much less find the time to research a haircut that will accentuate my best features. Next stop...Mom Jeans.

- I am a one handed wizard. I can do anything with one hand, because Fat Baby requires a lot of cuddling, carrying and feeding. So I cradle her with one arm, prop the bottle up against my chin, and carry on with my day. St. Nana and Husby have both expressed incredulous admiration at my ability to do so many different things with one hand, and I have a new appreciation for people with disabilities. I'm not sure if I can put this on my resume, but I think it will add to the list of things I can do at parties to impress people that have had a few glasses of wine.

- A wise friend of mine told me early on in the pregnancy that having Darling Daughter around was going to make all the difference in my stay-home experience. I thought she was a lunatic. But Darling Daughter is like a mini-adult, so I have someone to talk to and laugh with all day long. Darling also keeps my attitude in check. I am not allowed to wallow in any kind of self pity or depression for very long because she picks up on my mood and echoes it back to me in tantrums and tears.

But the biggest difference Fat Baby has made in my life goes beyond all of these things. For the first time in more years than I care to remember, I am seriously happy. I have this deep, inexplicable contentment that I never expected to experience in my lifetime. There are weeks when I don't leave the house for four or five days straight, and I don't really mind that much. I am actually enjoying being a stay-at-home-mom.

Make no mistake, I am still easily exasperated by Darling's tantrums and insistence on drinking specific beverages out of certain cups. Husby still drives me crazy by putting the dishes next to the dishwasher instead of in it. Fat Baby claims, at the top of her little baby lungs, that she is starving every two hours or so. Nursing didn't quite go as planned. I am still vaguely aware that I need to totally revamp our diet, start an exercise program, and find ways to structure our time so that we remain civilized and socialized. These things cause me no shortage of stress and anxiety, and I'm not too good to use Heineken Light to take the edge off.

But all of that nonsense falls within the average range of experience. I was expecting the apocalypse, and instead found a peace and comfort that I didn't know was possible. Depression is a black dog that lives under my bed - sometimes sleeping, sometimes snarling viciously and disrupting my life. I fully expected the arrival of another baby to wake the beast and unleash another torrent of suffering. Instead, the opposite has happened.

And this, dear readers, is as close to optimistic as I have ever been.