Babies don't need pants

So until Katharine gets through these first few weeks, this remains a Dad-posted blog. I don't think she's been away from email and internet this much since the late 90's; probably a healthy break. We've been focused on getting acclimated to nursing, which has been a massive emotional and physical struggle, which we remind ourselves is by all accounts normal. No winners yet, just participants.
You can read your brain cells raw before a birth, but there has been no end of tiny discovery surprises this first week. At night James is drinking mother's milk from a cup which to me is just a bizarre sight- this little man slurping from a shot glass until he has his fix. This method makes for much longer stretches of (potential) sleep, I think because he gets so much more at a time than regular feeding. For me, I thought it couldn't be possible that he was sleeping for 5 hours in a row, so I stayed mostly awake listening to the dogs snoring. Katharine and I are both avid theorists, but we agreed last night to temporarily forego trying to logically explain events and behaviour for a couple of weeks and just address basic needs.
One of these is the need for the right baby supplies to be in the right place at the right time, namely in the middle of the night. I think I'm a pretty good changer but I almost lost it last night with a red-faced kicker screaming bloody murder while I sorted through piles of not exactly what I needed. The whole 'onesie' concept seemed unnecessarily torturous all of a sudden- is there really no better design? And people, can we standardize, at least for newborns? We are lucky to already have an extensive wardrobe for the little guy but everything has snaps and feet in totally different places. After realizing the last 6 clean diapers were upstairs, trying to fold something into a diaper shape and then throwing it against the wall (Katharine said 'I hope that was the clean diaper?'), we were almost organized until the little ninja wrap top refused to be fastened (I swear there were two snaps with no clear purpose whatsoever.) And then pants. Who makes pants for babies? James does not like pants. James' father really does not like pants. Pants are a riduculous clothing style for newborns. I only bought them because they were part of the rabbit ninja outfit. Never again.
The good news this morning is he did gain weight overnight for the first time, and feedings are progressing little by little. And tonight the changing table will be laid out impecabbly with plenty of the right stuff. The Heineken Oud Bruin is kind of a Dutch Guinness, not a stout per se, but reputed to strengthen nursing mothers (and fathers).