Settling in

As is common in any new relationship, the past four weeks have been filled with discoveries. Nate, Dan and I have had to relate to each other, find what makes each of us tick, and find ways to peacefully coexist, while maintaining our three distinct personalities. Unfortunately for Nate, he has also had to adjust to a whole new strange world in which nourishment no longer flows directly into his stomach and he has to do things like breathing on his own.
As you might imagine, this has led to several differences of opinion between the three of us. Especially between Nathan and me. You see, Dan and I have been married and living together for a year and a half now; and we have known each other for almost nine years. Granted, that doesn't mean that we always see eye to eye, but we have a pretty good understanding of each other.
Nate and I, on the other hand, are not seeing eye to eye on much at the moment. This goes all the way back to his birth, and the time we spent in the hospital. He wanted to be held upright, perpendicular to the floor...he also wanted to nurse that way. I had no problem holding him, but when lunchtime rolled around, he got cradled in my arms, and started screaming. He also thought that in spite of his screaming, the milk should find its way into his mouth and down his throat without him having to actually nurse. Hunger eventually won out, and he tolerated being held parallel to the ground and nursing instead of crying. Score two for Mommy! But I lost my credibility before we even left the hospital. I think it was when I spent most of the night holding and rocking and singing to him, telling him that I would always be here, and that I wouldn't let anything hurt him. Then, early the next morning, I cheerfully handed him off to the nurse who took him to be circumcised.
Our differences of opinion continue. Nate did actually find a way to nurse sitting up, he wiggled and squirmed until, instead of being held up to my shoulder, being burped, he was latching on to continue his meal. Score one for Nate. We have, for the most part, figured out the whole eating process. Though he still doesn't seem to fully trust me. His latest game is continuing to nurse after he's full, holding as much milk as he can in his mouth, then smiling at me, turning his head and letting it all drool out of his mouth. Or eating until he makes himself sick, and spitting up on my shoulder in lieu of burping. It's as though he doesn't trust that the next time he's hungry, he'll be fed. Or maybe he thinks I wait too long to realize he's ready for a snack. But no matter how many times I tell him his tummy is full, he doesn't want to quit. And even though I know he's done, and that he's going to probably spit up on me-when he opens and closes his mouth like a little fish, and cries, squirming towards me, pleading with his eyes for just a little more milk before he wastes away-I fold, I fold like....um..like something easily folded. Score two for Nate.
We also disagree on whether or not he will self-destruct if he is left to languish in his swing or bassinet. Nate is of the opinion that if he is not being held, he should be lying next to one of his parents, being cuddled. He also seems to think that his bassinet is a vortex of evil and the only place he should ever be expected to sleep is on our bed. Personally, I think that he will survive being seated in his swing, or laid in his bassinet, or even put on the floor for some tummy time (actually, he's cool with tummy time). I believe that even if his bassinet is a vortex of evil, he is strong enough to prevail. And I believe that I'm sick of washing my bedding because a certain little guy is stuffing himself and spitting up all over my side of the bed!