You’d think that I’d start out this post by marveling “how could it possibly be two months that you’ve been with us?!” Instead, however, I find myself totally prepared to mark this milestone. While time is indeed fleeting, and your newborn self has already morphed into just-plain-infant, I’m well aware that sixty-one days have come and gone that you have been here with us.
I have treasured every one.
With the exception of a few (wonderful, thank-you-so-much!!!) nights that Gramma took middle-of-the-night duty to feed, change, and rock you, it has been you and me, kiddo. Just you, me, and the whoosh-whoosh of your ceiling fan. And although I’ll be more than ready to admit that I like me sleep, I can honestly say I haven’t minded your mid-night feedings.
I remember those days with Seth – I would feed and burp and rock him, and then try to lay him back to bed, and he’d fuss and cry, and I’d cry right along with him. I didn’t think I knew what I was doing (and I’m sure, to a degree, I actually didn’t), but with you….it’s different.
Our moves are in sync; our routine is unhurried, yet not wearisome (even when it can take an hour-plus from start to finish). I love to see your blue eyes grow big as you watch the ceiling fan circle ‘round and ‘round in the glow of your nightlight. I chuckle as you manage to produce the loudest, most unladylike belches from your tummy. I sigh over your fighting limbs; you do so hate to be swaddled in cloth, but yet, you slumber so peacefully when held almost-too-tight again my chest. I pray over that particular behavior – that it would be a temporary infantile reflex, rather than a preference to fight the restriction that are only in your best interest.
Erin, you are my sweet girl. My Lady Lou, my Er-bear, my Er-bug. My McSqueezie. (I know, I know. But just you wait. You’ll have children of your own someday that you’ll call by even more outrageous nicknames!)
You are astoundingly determined. Your held control has surprised us all; as have the strength in your trunk. You have been rolling over from both tummy to back, and back to tummy, consistently since you were a mere three weeks old. You can push yourself up over the back of your Boppy so that you are, in effect, upside down. (For the record, that is NOT cool, and I’d prefer that you stop that!) You’re not too much interested in the toys and rattles that dangle from your swing, bouncer, and play mat, but that will come, I’m sure.
You now weigh 9 lbs (15%) and are 21.5” (10%), and are filling out newborn onesies quite nicely – though I’m going to try my best to have you in on of Presley’s cute 0-3 month outfits for fireworks on Sunday. You are in the diaper size right between newborn and Size 1. Alas, that particular size doesn’t exist. So we just put your in the Size 1, and pray your poo stays put!
You and I, we’ve tried the nursing thing a few times, and you are a pro. But mommy is a wimp, and so we’re pretty much sticking with 4 oz. bottles, 5-6 times a day. You are a messy nurser and I’ll admit, I’m just too efficient to not utilize the best of both worlds system we’ve got going for us.
The men in your life love you like there is no tomorrow. Seth has taken to sharing his most prized possessions with you, and your sweetness has Daddy in a baby-haze – going as far to think suggest that another one of you might not be so bad to have around. (Which it wouldn’t, but, well, in about 12 years you’ll understand why I’m not jumping for joy at the thought of giving you a baby sister.)
Grow, baby girl. Grow your place in our hearts and our home even stronger than it already is. Make your mark. Let it be known to the world just how wonderful and amazing and sweet you are. I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us in month three!
I love you,
*These “2” photos are not the ones I really want….but I have to be able to set up the shot with the blanket and sticker the way I want….not to mention that I tried to color coordinate the photo, but realize now that this outfit does not flatter her at all! =) So, back to the drawing board – er, closet!