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Month 3

23 Jan

Oliver,

Here we are again.  Another month has flown by.  You are three months old and this past month has been an eventful one.  We celebrated our first Christmas with you and it was the best Christmas we’d had in years.  Of course you didn’t really know anything was different from any other day, but having our first Christmas with you meant a lot to all of us.  That’s the thing about you, you make everything better.

The biggest thing to happen to you this past month was the start of spending days with a babysitter instead of at home with me.  Needless to say, I was not looking forward to your first day.  I couldn’t imagine my days without you.  I couldn’t imagine anyone taking good enough care of you.  But, the first day came along and we did it.  Actually, your daddy did the hard part because I’m lucky enough to not have to do the drop off myself, and we all survived.  The entire transition has been an excellent one.  Holly, your sitter, loves you so much and, best of all, you love her.  Daddy says your face lights up with a big grin when you see her in the morning and I’ve seen the same thing on the occasions I’ve picked you up in the afternoon.  Of course part of me worried that you’d love Holly more than me and I’d be replaced, but I’ll take a little irrational worrying about that over the worry that you aren’t happy.  If you have to spend the day with someone other than me then I’m happy you love her as much as you do.

It’s hard to keep up with all the growing and changing you do these days.  First of all, you’re so big!  At your 2 month appointment you were officially off the charts for height (25 inches) and weight (15.2 pounds).  So I’m guessing you’re around 18 pounds these days.  Your pediatrician calls you a moose (lovingly) and told us that you’re the size of an average 4 month old.  I’ll admit that I’ve had some moments of uncertainty regarding your size–are you TOO big? do we feed you TOO much?–but it’s actually just so great and I can’t imagine you any other way.  Your chunky thighs, big baby belly, and chubby cheeks are delicious.  In other developments, you’re excellent at holding your head up on your own and you kick and swing at things when you’re lying on your playmat.  You’re completely into chewing on your fingers and fists and the amount of drooling you do is quite impressive.  You’re a smiling machine with the best smile I’ve ever seen and on your 3 month birthday you laughed for the first time.  It was the greatest thing ever.  You’re also getting more and more vocal, trying out all different kinds of sounds and screeches and coos.  The only thing I can say you do not like is being on your tummy.  I think the longest you’ve lasted is 3 minutes…maybe 4…I try to push the limits but your daddy can’t handle the cries so it doesn’t last long.

Well Ollie, what else is there to say?  It’s taken me longer than normal to write this because other than the basics, I wasn’t quite sure what else to say.  It’s not that life with you is dull or isn’t noteworthy, in fact it’s just the opposite.  We love everything you do from the smallest coo to the biggest smile, it’s just that life these days is normal.  So perfectly, perfectly, normal.

Love,

Mama

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Month 2

18 Dec

Oliver,

Yesterday you turned two months old and you are still the sweetest little baby ever.  Of course I’m biased, but I swear you get more sweet and more loveable everyday.  Your second month has been a great one and it feels like we watch you change right before our eyes each day.  I feel like I really got the hang of this whole mom thing this month and our days together have settled into a happy little routine.

This month you started smiling at everyone and I can’t find words to explain how amazing it is.  Everyone who meets you is reduced to a baby talking, silly face making fool who is willing to do anything to coax a smile out of you.  And when it comes, that big gummy grin, well seriously, it is the Best Thing Ever.  It’s impossible to not fall in love with you.

Your other big milestone this month was moving from sleeping in a bassinet in our room to sleeping in your crib in your room.  I was worried about this transition, but you’ve just breezed right through it.  We were trying out your new mobile one night and when it was time for us to go to bed you were still asleep in your crib so we just left you there and haven’t looked back since.  I am sure this will be the first thing in a long list of things that are harder on me than they are on you.  Even though we’re both sleeping better, I worry and miss having you close by.  Your dad and I have moved from our room downstairs to the guest room upstairs which is next to your room.  It seems a little over the top, but I’ll do anything for a little extra peace of mind.

If I was obsessed with your poop (or lack there of) last month, this month my obsession has been your sleep.  I don’t really know how it became such a thing for me since you’ve always been a really good sleeper, but alas, here I am.  Even though things are going well, I feel like it could be going better so we’ve been trying different ways to help you nap better and sleep for longer stretches at night.  Of course nothing is consistently working so I’m going to add this to the growing list of lessons I’ve learned during my time as your mother:  you know what works for you and I need to be patient, not pushy.  I also need to step away from baby books about sleep and google, but I’m a work progress.

We’re getting ready for a big change as we head into next month.  I’ll be going back to work and you’ll be spending your days with a babysitter.  We found a really great sitter for you and I know you’ll be happy there and that she’s going to love you, but it’s still going to be completely different.  This whole time I’ve been telling myself that I’ll be ready to go back to work, but now that the day is getting closer and closer I’ve started dreading it.   Thinking about you spending your days with someone else makes me sad and thinking about the possibility of you missing me or needing me and me not being there, well it’s horrible.  I can only hope you’ll handle this transition as easily as you handled moving to your crib and that all the angst will be mine, not yours.

Oliver, you’re slowly making me realize that every cliché I’ve heard about motherhood is probably true.  You’re my heart beating outside my body.  I don’t remember what life was like before you came along.  I love you more than I could have ever imagined and I hope you know that whether I’m in the next room, or miles away, that’ll never change.

Love,

Mama