Today you are three months old.
Last night, your dad was holding you as I brushed my teeth and remarked on just how much like a baby you look. I laughed and teased him, reminding him that you are a baby… He responded that the Happiest Baby on the Block author says that when people think of a baby they’re thinking of a three-month-old. And here we are.
You are so chubby now! I proudly point out how you are working on a third thigh crease, and your cheeks are so round they almost stick out as much as your nose. You’re a good eater — ten days ago, at 12½ weeks you weighed a whopping 6.6 kgs (14 lbs 7 oz) — and I am still amazed that my body has managed to nurture you for almost a year, if you include pregnancy.
In the past couple of weeks you’ve acquired new skills. You dribble bubbles, so now you wear a bib most of the time. You’ve discovered your hands, and now suck on your fists (and sometimes your thumb) to self-soothe. You grasp my top as you nurse. When you’re particularly entertained by something, you clutch your fists under your chin, squawking with happiness. And you wailed as you lay under your jungle gym recently because you were holding onto a ring tightly and didn’t know how to let go — something which made me rush to you but also chuckle a little.
You don’t cry often — only when you’re hungry or have a dirty diaper, and sometimes when you have a bath or when I put you down. You are curious about the world now, so wearing you in the Boba isn’t always an option; but having you in my arms makes it difficult to get anything done. Harder still to turn away from you when you gurgle, coo, or grin at me, which is a lot of the time. You enjoy having your cheeks squeezed and your chin tickled, and you think my wiping your mouth is a terrific fun. You seem to have a sunny personality.
Changing your diaper is trickier now that you constantly kick and draw your knees up towards your chest. This gesture also helps you sit up when you grasps my thumbs, my hands encircling yours, and pull you upright. The look on your face is one of delight. Your mouth and eyes form a happy O shape, your neck is strong but there is a slight wobble to your head. I pull you up so you are standing, your knees locked. It’s a lot of exercise for you, sweet tiny lamb, so we only do it three times. You are mastering these new tricks, and I think it’s time we bought you a highchair to sit in.
You’re also learning to sleep without a swaddle. It’s been a couple of weeks now, and gone are the once- or twice-weekly six-hour stretches of sleep I was getting used to. I am grateful that you return to your crib with little fuss and fall asleep quickly. When it’s light out, I’ll bring you onto the bed with me. I snooze with my arms around you, the duvet below my hips. We doze, breastfeeding, for another hour before your dad brings me coffee in bed.
You still spit up a lot; and for the past four weeks you don’t poop multiple times a day — so when you do poop, your diaper leaks without warning. I’m always doing laundry! (So grateful to Aunt PSIL for all the many hand-me-downs from your cousins!)
I worry about the measles and whooping cough outbreaks in California, and it makes me hopping mad that other parents refuse to vaccinate their kids and potentially put you — and others — at risk.
But you are strong, healthy, and happy, and I am determined to keep you that way for as long as possible.
Happy ¼ Birthday, my sweet girl!