Today you are two months old. I like to tell you how very old you are getting - eight weeks and five days, but you insist on reminding me that you are only zero.
It is serious business, being zero:
The past two days/nights have been slightly more regular than all of the preceding ones. You've taken a short light nap in the morning and a long hard nap in the afternoon. You then went to bed around nine thirty both nights. I suppose we shall see if this lasts or not.
You are mostly content all day long. You get a little upset when you get tired or when you have gas. Tonight is a prime example. Of fussiness = gassiness. You were tired as well, but the fussing was a direct result of your digestive system. However do I know? Why, you won the gold medal in poop, that's how. GOLD MEDAL. As in you were eating, the perfect time to load up the diaper, and you began your typical squirty business.
Then you did it again.
Oh, and once more.
These three, shall we say, deposits, were punctuated with some very airy, explosive releases of gas that your father would certainly be proud of, not to mention your uncles. Realizing the gravity of the situation, I called your father into the room to help with the cleanup. I mentioned the magnitude of your endeavors, and as we were removing your gown - yes, the perfectly cute mooooooo gown shown above - he says "I think it leaked."
The understatement of the month, indeed.
I would have taken a photo of your gown masterpiece, but I decided to spare the faint of heart and stomach. Suffice it to say that your yellow gown was not so much so up the entire back. The diaper didn't leak, you simply blew it out.
I see you think that's funny:
You are certainly growing. We are all guessing how much you will weigh at your doctor's appointment today. I think you will be somewhere in the eleven pound range. Your arms and legs are getting chubbier by the day and your tummy fills out all of your clothing now.
We met with our financial advisor this past week so that we could be sure to save some money for your education. She made sure to let us know how much it will supposedly cost to send you to Virginia Tech in eighteen years. It is a good thing, too, since you are already telling us your plans...or at least Dave hopes you are:
We have five instruments in the house, so hopefully you will take up at least one of them. You can then go and have a fabulous time in the MVs.
You are much stronger this month as well. You don't love tummy time yet, but you tolerate it for a while. You can hold your head up and turn it from side to side all on your own. You especially love to be in control of your head when we are holding you over our shoulder; we have to watch out to make sure that you don't fling yourself off into the abyss.
Just recently, as in the last week or so, you have learned two very important things. One is how to get your left hand into your mouth. You began by aiming for your mouth with a closed fist. Sometimes you ran into your chin, how dare that thing get in your way, but eventually you figured out the path to your mouth.
Unfortunately, a closed fist does not a pacifier make. Also, it is a very loud sucking implement! Thankfully, you soon decided that you preferred the actual pacifier to a closed fist.
Not so much on the pacifier verses open hand, however. You very much enjoy sucking on your fingers, now that you've mastered the open-hand-into-mouth technique. In fact, you practice that move all day long. It is a wet, slimy job, but you are happy to oblige.
The second thing that you've learned to do is to smile when something makes you happy. You still don't grace us with a grin very often, but each day has a few. We are still learning what makes you smile.
I know that you wake up happy in the morning and that you love to make noises. Even better is if you make a noise and I echo it back to you; then you'll make your noise again. Also, you realize that your sounds come from your mouth, because if I move your mouth for you, you'll talk to me. You love it when I mirror your faces back to you and you enjoy trying to do the same to me. You can stick out your tongue, open your mouth, and even sometimes do this:
I can't wait to see what next month brings. More likes and dislikes, more regular sleeping (one can only hope), and loads more smiles are certainly on the agenda.
I love you very much,
Mom
It is serious business, being zero:
The past two days/nights have been slightly more regular than all of the preceding ones. You've taken a short light nap in the morning and a long hard nap in the afternoon. You then went to bed around nine thirty both nights. I suppose we shall see if this lasts or not.
You are mostly content all day long. You get a little upset when you get tired or when you have gas. Tonight is a prime example. Of fussiness = gassiness. You were tired as well, but the fussing was a direct result of your digestive system. However do I know? Why, you won the gold medal in poop, that's how. GOLD MEDAL. As in you were eating, the perfect time to load up the diaper, and you began your typical squirty business.
Then you did it again.
Oh, and once more.
These three, shall we say, deposits, were punctuated with some very airy, explosive releases of gas that your father would certainly be proud of, not to mention your uncles. Realizing the gravity of the situation, I called your father into the room to help with the cleanup. I mentioned the magnitude of your endeavors, and as we were removing your gown - yes, the perfectly cute mooooooo gown shown above - he says "I think it leaked."
The understatement of the month, indeed.
I would have taken a photo of your gown masterpiece, but I decided to spare the faint of heart and stomach. Suffice it to say that your yellow gown was not so much so up the entire back. The diaper didn't leak, you simply blew it out.
I see you think that's funny:
You are certainly growing. We are all guessing how much you will weigh at your doctor's appointment today. I think you will be somewhere in the eleven pound range. Your arms and legs are getting chubbier by the day and your tummy fills out all of your clothing now.
We met with our financial advisor this past week so that we could be sure to save some money for your education. She made sure to let us know how much it will supposedly cost to send you to Virginia Tech in eighteen years. It is a good thing, too, since you are already telling us your plans...or at least Dave hopes you are:
We have five instruments in the house, so hopefully you will take up at least one of them. You can then go and have a fabulous time in the MVs.
You are much stronger this month as well. You don't love tummy time yet, but you tolerate it for a while. You can hold your head up and turn it from side to side all on your own. You especially love to be in control of your head when we are holding you over our shoulder; we have to watch out to make sure that you don't fling yourself off into the abyss.
Just recently, as in the last week or so, you have learned two very important things. One is how to get your left hand into your mouth. You began by aiming for your mouth with a closed fist. Sometimes you ran into your chin, how dare that thing get in your way, but eventually you figured out the path to your mouth.
Unfortunately, a closed fist does not a pacifier make. Also, it is a very loud sucking implement! Thankfully, you soon decided that you preferred the actual pacifier to a closed fist.
Not so much on the pacifier verses open hand, however. You very much enjoy sucking on your fingers, now that you've mastered the open-hand-into-mouth technique. In fact, you practice that move all day long. It is a wet, slimy job, but you are happy to oblige.
The second thing that you've learned to do is to smile when something makes you happy. You still don't grace us with a grin very often, but each day has a few. We are still learning what makes you smile.
I know that you wake up happy in the morning and that you love to make noises. Even better is if you make a noise and I echo it back to you; then you'll make your noise again. Also, you realize that your sounds come from your mouth, because if I move your mouth for you, you'll talk to me. You love it when I mirror your faces back to you and you enjoy trying to do the same to me. You can stick out your tongue, open your mouth, and even sometimes do this:
I can't wait to see what next month brings. More likes and dislikes, more regular sleeping (one can only hope), and loads more smiles are certainly on the agenda.
I love you very much,
Mom
2 comments:
Ah yes, the blowout poop staining onesies phase. I remember it well. It still happens on occasion if I don't catch it in time. Good times! Sounds like a great little girl you have!
Digestive problems? Just wait until daddy starts in with the mini-wheats...
Speaking of which...how cool are the new mini-wheat flavors? Were they a cause for celebration in the household, or does the Senior grumble about how they've gone too commercial, and don't understand the purity of the mini-wheat anymore?
-Joey
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