My Little Lou,
You are 3 months old already – can you believe it? I can’t. Except that I can – time is the only explanation for the changes we’ve seen in you. Most of your dark newborn hair has fallen out and is growing in fair. Your eyes are still blue, but a bright shining blue. You are so alert and I delight in watching you watch the world go by. Your belly and face are much rounder and your legs are much less chicken-y. Depending on the angle, I can see a resemblance between you and me although most people still assert that you are the spitting image of your dad.
At 5 weeks old you turned a corner and started to sleep for 3-4 hour chunks in your Moses basket. It was around this time that dad and I decided to tag-team your night feed: dad gives you a bottle while I express for the following night. If someone had told me before you came along that I would be happy to wake at 4 or 5am every night, I wouldn’t have believed it but it’s true. We treasure the family time – dim lights, whispered conversations, the radio on quietly… and so many smiles and gurgles. You are positively giddy after that early morning bottle.
Speaking of smiles, you started showing us your gummy grin right around the 5 week mark too. It’s something I still haven’t gotten used to. Every time you smile my heart lifts like a bird buoyed by a gust of warm air. It’s magic. We recorded a video of you one morning in your blue teddy onesie (oh the feet! I am OBSESSED with your baby feet!) grinning while we sang ‘Old McDonald’ for the umpteenth time.
We have a song for every occasion – the ‘Good Morning’ song, ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ and/or the Alphabet song for nappy changing and ‘Ali-Bali’ for going to sleep. We sing plenty of songs throughout the day too like ‘Down by the Bay’, ‘The Ants go Marching’, ‘Five Little Ducks’, ‘Row Row Row Your Boat’, I could go on…
Physically you are getting much stronger. Your grip on my finger is quite something! You kick your legs and wave your arms with fervour but haven’t quite figured out how to work your hands yet – something that is frustrating to watch. Sometimes you manage to find your fist to suck (loudly!) but often you end up moving your head side to side in frustration.
A typical day right now goes something like this:
– Wake up around 8:30am
– Come downstairs in your pjs and have a feed while I have breakfast
– Watch a bit of baby tv in your bouncer while I express
– Upstairs to get dressed and ready
– Nap in your bouncer for 20-30 minutes while I tidy up or do laundry
– Feed again before lunch
– Go out in the afternoon, come home around 4 or 5pm
– Start making dinner around 6:15
– Daddy comes home at 6:30 and we eat dinner at 7pm while you sit in your swing
– Upstairs at 8:30 for a bath
– Last feed before we put you down to sleep around 9:15pm
We go to Rockstarz baby sing-along class at Kidzeco on Tuesdays with Carolyn & Chloe. On Thursday mornings we go to Baby Massage class at Balerno High School, then usually to Grandma and Grandpa Colin’s house afterwards for lunch. We go to Livingston Shopping Centre a lot or take the tram into town to meet friends… occasionally we stay home and have lazy cuddly days.
I am writing all this down so I can remember it all – I am terribly afraid of forgetting what these precious days were like or that I haven’t savoured them enough. The truth is no words or photographs will ever do. Mummy used to be a good writer, you know. My 11th grade English teacher actually applauded when he handed back my essay on The Scarlett Letter. But now my words sound clumsy and ordinary and you are anything but ordinary. I had heard it all a million times – how deeply and fiercely you love your children, how special every expression and every milestone feels. Nothing prepared me though for the heaviness, the physical ache that comes with loving you. I am daily brought to tears with it.
For now I just try and squeeze in as many kisses as possible while you still let me. Thankfully you do.
I love you.