Three Months of Motherhood in the Bag
Next week my son, my charming, sleepy, squealing, smiley, happy boy, will be three months old. I am not sure where this time went, but I am watching these last weeks of my maternity leave fly by too quickly.
In only three short months, he has changed so much. While he has always been an expressive baby, he has matured to look more like an individual rather than a generic newborn that resembles an old wrinkly man. He has put on some weight so he is less lanky, and he has a double chin now. His eyes have become more blue every day, his face has filled out. His hair has grown and then fallen out in interesting patches thanks to cradle cap, and seems to be coming back blonder than before. Every day he makes a new vocal noise or a new facial expression, lighting up our hearts. Not a day goes by where we don’t gaze at him and comment on his cuteness. He giggles when we sing at him, smiles back when we smile at him, and cries when he doesn’t get the boob exactly when he wants it. He sleeps 10–12 hours a night beside me in bed and has for weeks at this point, with no sign of regression just yet.
He has discovered how to blow bubbles and seems to have noticed his feet as of late. He wavers back and forth between loving and hating his bouncey chair, and can hold long unrequited conversations with the hanging toys that dangle from it (Smiley Face and Red Bird). He doesn’t always pay attention to books yet, and he only tolerates a few minutes of tummy time. He doesn’t reach out and grab things yet, but he will grip and release things that come close. He still lives for kicking his legs. He’s totally cool with bath time too.
His favorite spot to hang out is the changing table, and he is always pleasant, smiley, and talkative during diaper changes. He nurses every 2–4 hours nowadays and will take a bottle of expressed milk just as easy as the breast. He is still a happy spitter, basically a constant geyser of spit up. He likes car rides and being worn, and naps every day in the carrier. He has started to notice Krogan and even has flashed him a smile or two. He has successfully survived one restaurant dinner, one brunch, and a couple of casual lunches. He goes to lactation support group weekly and is generally one of the happiest babies there, and he was 12 pounds and 10 ounces last time we went.
His first meeting with Santa was uneventful, and he now has his first Christmas ornament. He likes to go to the ranch with Mommy and see the horses. He loves lights, especially the ones on the Christmas tree. He gets startled by Daddy’s sneezes and the sound of Krogan’s ears flapping when he shakes his head. He is now into 3–6 month clothing.
Being his mother has been easy, admittedly. He doesn’t cry too much unless there is a reason. He sleeps extremely well, he nurses without difficulty nowadays. He likes going out-and-about so I can still enjoy exercise outdoors and run errands. I feel my love growing for him every day. Small things become enormous milestones and I cherish every one of them. Being a mother feels natural to me, and I am thankful that I have so far avoided any postpartum depression. He has brought me and my husband even closer with our mutual affection that grows bigger each day. I do wish I had local friends with babies around his age to do regular play dates with, but I am working through social anxieties and trying to attend enough meetups that eventually I’ll get up the courage to ask someone if they’d like to schedule a play date. I am working on getting back to my pre-pregnancy weight which is distant in the future at this point.
I am still growing accustomed to this new life, where I can’t marathon the latest game release for hours on end, or leave the house very often without a baby in tow, or hit up karaoke every weekend. I drive an SUV now and sometimes my only daily outings involve a quick trip to Starbucks and a walk around the neighborhood. But that’s okay. It’s my new normal.
I am head-over-heels in love with this gremlin. :)
