Lukey,I know I start every letter with some kind of exclamation, like "holy cow, you're getting old!"... and once again the sentiment reigns true. I think parenthood is this strange give and take between mind-numbing minutia and fleeting stages of rosy baby-hood wonderfulness that pass so quickly and mark a permanent place in your heart so that it distorts all sense of time and space. This month feels especially like that - I can hardly remember how little you were, even two months ago. And you're already looking like such a little baby... I mean, a real baby - with crazy facial expressions and grabby hands and hilarious noises and scooting movements and each day discovering something new! The latest accomplishments include a fascinating ability to pull your whole foot into your mouth. Wow. And, you stand on your feet and bounce like you're a whole lot older than you actually are. The other day you pushed your high chair with your feet away from the table in one quick kick! You're starting to become more and more comfy on your tummy--lifting yourself further and further off the floor. And this past month you got the rolling thing down: tummy to back is a piece of cake, and you're starting to do back to tummy without much effort... which is helping the whole sleeping scenario at night.
About that sleeping scenario. What happened?!? You were once a dream sleeper. And then something went horribly wrong. Your dad and I have spent many a late-might playing whats been dubbed "night-chicken." We both try and outlast the other, seeing who can pretend to be asleep the hardest so we don't have to run into your room and get you settled back down. (This is a pretty standard parent trick, don't worry. I'm really bad at it, since I can't stand to listen to you cry very long. And, I tend to have the philosophy of "I'm up! Join me, won't you?!" Ahhhhh, 4am is rarely anyone's best time. This is new territory for us, Luke -- and both your dad and I have some theories. Let's just say it's a combination of teething, a cold, and a vacation that led to some accidental night-boobing to make sure you didn't wake your sister up. So, we have some news. As soon as the latest cold blows over it's back to the 'ol "night-chicken" for us, love. There's only so long a parent can go getting only four hours of sleep at a time.
Another uncomfortable topic, but one we must have for the record: you have been severely stopped up in the pooper. I think we finally got you straightened out, though - thanks to a whole lotta prunes for about two days straight. Even then, there are tears shed at each push. It's so sad... and yet entertaining. I'm afraid there are many videos and pictures of the event that I'm sure I'll bust out at inappropriate times as you get older. (There's so much to look forward to, being our child!)
I'm sure it was a bit of a shock to your system: You stopped breastfeeding and started eating solids all at the same time. Yes, the new feeding routine has been a really fun adventure! From the first feeding, you have been a big fan. I wondered if I had been starving you or something because there hasn't been much of a learning curve for you. You haven't needed to ease into any foods. If it's edible, you're into it. (For that matter, even if it isn't edible, you're into it.) This morning you had four cubes of squash, and then for lunch you had four cubes of bananas (along with a bottle at each sitting and one in-between). You are not going hungry, my lad, I guarantee it.
What else? You have the most joyous little personality! You're going to be our people-person, party-smiler-boy. Even when you were a (really) little tyke, you wanted in on the action. I have a feeling you were born with it -- an extrovert for sure, with the absolute best giggle I've ever heard in a baby. I'm sure I'll repeat this many times as you get older, but there's brain research about boys and not understanding consequences, which help me understand the whole 'dude, let's jump off the roof' thing that seems to enrapture young men everywhere. I'll admit that you boys freak me out a bit. Just watch America's Funniest Videos for an hour and it'll strike the fear into all mothers of sons. (You're in a good position: I don't think your dad has that gene, so it'll all balance out in the end.) Party boy, I know this: your joyous and happy spirit will win over hearts. It already has!
I wish I could capture for you what I see each day... a smile that lights up your face, a long torso that's getting leaner and leaner as you grow and move, and already strong legs. You love to suck on whatever you can: my neck or chin or cheek if I'm holding you, the spoon when you're getting fed, any fingers you can mange to to get in your mouth... We're waiting for those teeth to pop out any day.
Time is flying by. Don't grow up so quickly, Luke! Between you and your sister, I'm not sure my heart can bear all the stretching that watching your kids grow up causes. You are our little boy, and for now I want time to slow and for you to stay this little so I can nuzzle you to sleep and let you grab my fingers so tightly, and to run into your room at 4am to let you know that all is well. All is well, love!
Love you,
Mama (and Daddy)
1 comment:
very sweet, sal.
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