Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Month 3

Dear Sophie,
Today you are three months old. We had several big events happen this month. First, I went back to work. It was really sad for me, I miss hanging out with you all day. But you stay with your Abuelita and she loves you very much, and I don't think you really noticed one way or the other.

Second, you rolled over! Well, kind of. I heard you half-rolled, onto your side, twice in the same day. So I rushed home, waiting to see rainbows and fireworks and... and... NOTHING. That was apparently the only day you wanted to roll.

Bubbles! You have become the Bubble-Blowing Master. The Queen of the Drool Bubbles, the gold-medalist in the Bubble Olympics. And you love it.

Every day after dinner, your Dad gives you a bath in your little bathtub, which sits inside my bigger bathtub. I get all of your things ready, the water in the tub, the soap, the shampoo, the towel, and set out your jammies. Then your Dad runs around the house holding you naked with his arms extended, babbling about 'This naked baby!' And you smile, and I know you're thinking about peeing on him, and that would be really funny. After your bath, he dries you and dresses you, puts on your baby lotion and cleans your ears and nose with special baby Q-Tips. And you cry. Then I put you into the Baby Bjorn, and we walk with both of the dogs around the neighborhood for about half an hour. Every day, your Dad and I argue over who gets to wear the baby carrier. I decided that we would take turns, but I have to hide the carrier to make sure that I get my turn.

The other day I was walking around Fairfax Corner with you in your carrier. There is this fountain there where water shoots out of the ground and the kids come to play in the water. They were screaming and laughing and having fun, and you watched them with wide eyes. And you waved your arms and your legs and squealed, because you understood that the kids were excited and you were excited too.

A year ago this weekend, give or take a couple days, was when I became pregnant with you. I was scared, and excited, and just hoped that you would be healthy and that I would be a good enough mom so that you wouldn't be in therapy before you started high school. I can't imagine my life without you, even though you've only really been in it for three months. It seems like you have always been with us, although I swear you were born a heartbeat ago. Until now, and for a little tiny while yet, you sleep in a Co-Sleeper bassinet that's attached to my side of our bed. You sleep right next to me, and at night I look over at you, all swaddled in your baby straightjacket, sleeping peacefully. And my chest just fills up and it's like nothing I've ever felt before. Your dad and I bought you a crib, and we put it together (well, okay, he put it together) in the extra bedroom that has both your dresser/changing table and our computer in it. It makes me very sad that soon you will be too big to sleep in your bassinet and will be sleeping in a room all your very own, in a bed all your very own. And instead of just turning my head to look at my baby girl, you are going to be a whole room away.



Friday, August 01, 2008

Month 2

Dear Sophie,

Yesterday you turned 2 months old. For reals! No more catching up. Today I had my wisdom teeth taken out, and you had your vaccines. We're really charming right now, let me tell you.

At about 5 weeks old, you started beaming one of the biggest smiles. Seriously. Huge.

That is, when you weren't crying. Here is a (small) list of things that make you cry. Being cold, being hot, taking a bath, sitting in a carseat. Having a poopy diaper. Being tired, being bored. Having to burp, having a tummy ache, having to fart. Unfortunately, those are most of the things that you do. Oh yeah, and getting shots.

Back to the poop. Your favorite place to poop is in your carseat. You are showing your disdain, I'm sure. The down side to that is that since you began only going once a day, you have some pretty massive poops, still watery 'cause you're a baby. Which means that they don't necessarily remain inside the diaper. Which means I've had disassemble, wash, and reassemble your carseat several times. Fun stuff. And there was this one time that shall forever be known as the On The Border Incident that I will torment you with even after you are grown.

Something that I'm going to have to catch on video is your gag. Whenever there's something in your mouth that you don't want there, a bottle, milk, even your passie, you act like you're choking on it. Drama queen. It's not possible for you to choke on a passie. You have learned how to blow bubbles with your drool, and you blow bubbles ALL THE TIME. Your daddy asks you all the time, 'What's up with the bubbles?' But you love them. And the drool. The drool. The buckets and buckets of drool, where we could water the houseplants and the potted plants on the balcony and the yard at the new house that we don't live in yet 'cause your daddy is still building it, and you would still have more drool.
Today at the doctor's, you were sitting in my lap in your blanket, and he came in, and you started smiling at him. This was the first time you had smiled at a stranger, and you smiled away, watching him, as he talked to us and listened to your heartbeat.

You have blue-ish brownish spots on your head above your right ear and another one more forward toward your forehead. The doctor said they are blue nevi. They are birthmarks that should go away on their own, but if they don't, they'll be covered by hair anyhow, and nobody will be able to see them if they don't. But for future reference, don't shave your head.

Speaking of hair, your hair is brown, except for this blond patch on the back of your head and the sides of your head, which are slightly reddish. You're my little calico baby.


12 pounds, 1 ounce, 24 1/4 inches long.
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