Sunday, January 20, 2008

Jack's Monthly Newsletter, Month Two

Dear Jack,

I am so tired. So, so, so, so tired. You are a gorgeous, happy, healthy, huge, sweet baby boy who is a very, very bad sleeper. Very bad. But you're cute, so we keep getting along. For now.

You are a smiley, smiley boy. When you smile, you do it with your mouth open wide and your eyes squinched shut with joy. I laugh out loud every single time you grin at me like that. You love to lay on your playmat and smile at the animals, at the wall, at the ceiling fan, and at things we just can't see. Those things make you happy, and that's good enough for me.

In fact, you like to lay on your back more than any baby I've ever known. Sometimes when you're fussy, I'll just lay you on your changing table and your mood almost always brightens. You just lay there, kick your legs, and survey the surroundings. You rarely cry when I change your diapers or your clothes, which is also very unusual. Your brother used to scream like we were branding him.

When we're having a little bonding time and smiling at each other, you talk to me in sweet sincere coos and gahs and oohs. I could listen to you croon all day.

Another thing you do that Nate never did is to take a pacifier and a bottle. I cannot thank you enough for being amenable to both. When we're grocery shopping and you start getting bored, I can pop in the paci and you'll happily suck away while I finish up. I can't imagine how we got by without it with your brother.

And since your brother didn't take a bottle until he was 9 months old, I was determined that you would. You got a bottle the very day you were born, filled with the evil formula, and you've had one almost every day since. As long as it's warm, you're happy to drink whatever milky nipple is shoved into your mouth. Bless you.

When I nurse you, or you lay on my lap, you're usually holding one of my fingers tightly in each hand, pulled tight to your chest. When I walk around with you, you grab hold of my hair or my shirt. The reason I'm balding isn't just lack of sleep, it's the sheer quantity of my hair that you've pulled out. I wanted a cuddly baby this time, and I would guess from all of the clinging that you're going to fit the bill.

In addition to the fact that you don't much like to sleep, you also have a very sensitive tummy. Mama's had to give up most of her favorite foods like beans, tofu, broccoli, and diet soda. The soda's been the hardest, but taking it out of my diet seems to have done you the most good. I'm so glad you're feeling better, but the diet restrictions have only reinforced my plan to wean you at six months. Enjoy the boobs while they last, son.

Most of your birth hair has fallen out, except a bottom fringe around the back of your head. Your new hair is growing in soft and dark, and your eyes are hazel just like your Daddy (and my Daddy, too). Everyone thinks that you are a very big boy (we'll find out how you're doing next week at your 2 month checkup).

You're definitely growing up. You smile a lot, and interact with people instead of staring past them. You have a soft little in-between cry now instead of just the silence or the screaming that you did when you were first born. I think of it as your Early Warning System. When I put you in your carseat for a walk, or a trip to the store, you stay awake for 10-15 minutes now, looking around at the new sights.

Your brother absolutely adores you, Jack, and you're so lucky to have him. Whenever I come into the room holding you, he squeals "Baby Jack!" and comes to see you. He holds your hand and smiles at you. He tries to shove your pacifier in whenever it falls out. He tells you "Don't cry, baby Jack." He loves you.

I love you too.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

bad tummy = evil formula

just a thought ... try a few days of exclusive nursing

has worked wonders for my friend's babies ...