Tomorrow Doug will be two weeks old. It's hard to believe. His umbilical cord fell off the other day, so he had his first bath last night. He got so angry during the bath that he wore himself out and slept quite soundly after for a good bit. Of course, we didn't take advantage of this situation and go to bed ourselves.
Due to my recovery from my c-section (getting in and out of bed seems to aggravate the incision) Jeff has been doing most of the night duty. The other morning he had changed Doug and then left him in his crib to go downstairs to get him a bottle. Doug of course, started screaming, waking me up. I went in there to get him, and he stopped and gave me this "Oh, its YOU!" look when I picked him up. I think he thought I'd forgotten about him. Also, I think he may have been disappointed, because he really likes to mess with Jeff. One of his favorite routines is to pretend he's still ravenous after having a bottle. He enjoys making Jeff troop back downstairs for more formula, only to refuse it.
I make stuff up. A lot. After many attempts to soothe Doug back to sleep, Jeff will cart him back into the bed room for suggestions. At which point, I really do make stuff up. It seems to make the two of them happy though. "Swaddle!" "Unswaddle!" "Change!" "Pacifier!" "Rock him!". It usually ensures that they leave and that I get to go back to sleep :)
I think that's all my random thoughts for now.