5 Months
Dear Owen,
Hey there, little man – I think we’re actually having some fun! You are, amazingly, five months old this week and I think I like you now. That sounds harsh, I know. To anyone who has not gone through raising a newborn, it may as well be blasphemy. Even to some people who have because, well, they are baby-raising robots or something. But, your mother is not a fan of the early months, and neither you nor your sister has made great strides in changing my opinion of those first 20 weeks or so. In fact, it is almost as if you two saw it as your mission to insure that I never became a fan of the newborn stage. Job well done!
But, we’ve seemingly passed that hurdle and our time together is so much more enjoyable. In the last month, it is like you yawned, stretched and woke up to the world. Where once you really only enjoyed looking at and “talking” to people, you now realize there are things around you. Things that make noise, or light up, or taste good in your mouth. Make that and taste good in your mouth. You like to grab whatever you can reach, stare at it intently, and concentrate very hard on working it between your gums. While everything is deserving of at least a taste, you do have your favorites. The blue chime-y elephant is one you especially like. In fact, blue elephants seem to be a theme when it comes to favorite toys: there’s the blue elephant that shakes and rattles when you pull it (attached to your car seat), the soft blue stuffed elephant that snuggles with you in your crib (whose trunk is easily directed into your mouth by holding the ears), and the blue chime-y elephant on your “play gym.” Interesting . . . Owen, I feel like I need to tell you now that I may disown you if you become a big game hunter.
I think the delightful change in your attitude, your mood, is in large part due to how much more in control you feel. You can grab and move and chew your toys. You can sit up a little and look around. You can even roll over and squirm across the floor. Small distances. Very small distances. But, hey – you did it on your own! It cracks me up how proud you get of yourself. Sometimes, you will be laying on the floor playing with (inevitably) the blue elephant. It gets tossed (“Hey – how’d that happen?”), you track it with your head, then roll over towards it. Then you prop up your little head and look at me as if to say, “Did you just see what I did? I totally just did that!” You are so pleased.
You continue to grow. And eat. I suppose a boy as active as you are needs a lot of fuel. You are now eating three meals a day, just like the big kids. A bit sooner than the pediatrician “advised”, but we cheated anyway by starting the solids at – what? – 13 weeks. You are all about the fruits, mostly because I haven’t gotten around to making many veggies. And yogurt – you love yogurt. I know there are some people who will judge and condemn me because I gave you yogurt before you were six months old. I am a horrible mother. I feed my child a food. That he likes. Oh, and it is organic and healthy for him. You don’t fuss much during the day anymore, but, when you do, it is apparently because the trip the spoon makes from your mouth, to the bowl, and back to your mouth again is not fast enough.
But, truly, Owen, the best part about this month has been the sleeping. Up until about 2 weeks ago, napping was not exactly your strong suit. We’d gotten the bedtime routine down (the 3 Bs: bath, boob, bed), and you were sleeping through the night. Mostly. But you were still treating daytime sleep like the enemy. I wanted to get you napping, but knew Gram didn’t have the cajones to really stick it to you. I mean, you needed to nap! If you slept well during the day, you slept even better at night. So, over spring break, since you were home with me, I set about “nap-training” you. Hurrah! Success! Now you take 2 fairly predictable naps every day. And there is much rejoicing. It is so good for all of us.
The best part of my day is coming to fetch you and Zoë after work. The open-mouthed, gummy, whole-face smile you give me is an incredible reward for even the most trying days. It is funny how you will look and babble at Zoë in the backseat as we drive home. She remains your favorite person . . . sometimes, I think you jabber at her thinking she’s your translator. Like, “You look like someone who can speak my language. Can you tell these people what I’m saying?” You really get a kick out of “chasing” her – I will hold you in a standing position (something you love to begin with), and bob you along the floor after her. You grin and razz and bubble the whole way, until we get her. Then you grab at her face or her hair and lean in close.
So, yeah – I guess it’s been a pretty fun month! Right now you’ve got a cold, again. And despite your snuffliness, you are just as delightful and playful as ever. We won’t talk about last night. Ugh. We haven’t had a night like that in a looong while and I know it was just because you didn’t feel well. But my head is not happy about it today. Come morning, though, you were cheerful and smiling. My “little gentleman.”
What a difference a month makes.
Love,
Momma
Hey there, little man – I think we’re actually having some fun! You are, amazingly, five months old this week and I think I like you now. That sounds harsh, I know. To anyone who has not gone through raising a newborn, it may as well be blasphemy. Even to some people who have because, well, they are baby-raising robots or something. But, your mother is not a fan of the early months, and neither you nor your sister has made great strides in changing my opinion of those first 20 weeks or so. In fact, it is almost as if you two saw it as your mission to insure that I never became a fan of the newborn stage. Job well done!
But, we’ve seemingly passed that hurdle and our time together is so much more enjoyable. In the last month, it is like you yawned, stretched and woke up to the world. Where once you really only enjoyed looking at and “talking” to people, you now realize there are things around you. Things that make noise, or light up, or taste good in your mouth. Make that and taste good in your mouth. You like to grab whatever you can reach, stare at it intently, and concentrate very hard on working it between your gums. While everything is deserving of at least a taste, you do have your favorites. The blue chime-y elephant is one you especially like. In fact, blue elephants seem to be a theme when it comes to favorite toys: there’s the blue elephant that shakes and rattles when you pull it (attached to your car seat), the soft blue stuffed elephant that snuggles with you in your crib (whose trunk is easily directed into your mouth by holding the ears), and the blue chime-y elephant on your “play gym.” Interesting . . . Owen, I feel like I need to tell you now that I may disown you if you become a big game hunter.
I think the delightful change in your attitude, your mood, is in large part due to how much more in control you feel. You can grab and move and chew your toys. You can sit up a little and look around. You can even roll over and squirm across the floor. Small distances. Very small distances. But, hey – you did it on your own! It cracks me up how proud you get of yourself. Sometimes, you will be laying on the floor playing with (inevitably) the blue elephant. It gets tossed (“Hey – how’d that happen?”), you track it with your head, then roll over towards it. Then you prop up your little head and look at me as if to say, “Did you just see what I did? I totally just did that!” You are so pleased.
You continue to grow. And eat. I suppose a boy as active as you are needs a lot of fuel. You are now eating three meals a day, just like the big kids. A bit sooner than the pediatrician “advised”, but we cheated anyway by starting the solids at – what? – 13 weeks. You are all about the fruits, mostly because I haven’t gotten around to making many veggies. And yogurt – you love yogurt. I know there are some people who will judge and condemn me because I gave you yogurt before you were six months old. I am a horrible mother. I feed my child a food. That he likes. Oh, and it is organic and healthy for him. You don’t fuss much during the day anymore, but, when you do, it is apparently because the trip the spoon makes from your mouth, to the bowl, and back to your mouth again is not fast enough.
But, truly, Owen, the best part about this month has been the sleeping. Up until about 2 weeks ago, napping was not exactly your strong suit. We’d gotten the bedtime routine down (the 3 Bs: bath, boob, bed), and you were sleeping through the night. Mostly. But you were still treating daytime sleep like the enemy. I wanted to get you napping, but knew Gram didn’t have the cajones to really stick it to you. I mean, you needed to nap! If you slept well during the day, you slept even better at night. So, over spring break, since you were home with me, I set about “nap-training” you. Hurrah! Success! Now you take 2 fairly predictable naps every day. And there is much rejoicing. It is so good for all of us.
The best part of my day is coming to fetch you and Zoë after work. The open-mouthed, gummy, whole-face smile you give me is an incredible reward for even the most trying days. It is funny how you will look and babble at Zoë in the backseat as we drive home. She remains your favorite person . . . sometimes, I think you jabber at her thinking she’s your translator. Like, “You look like someone who can speak my language. Can you tell these people what I’m saying?” You really get a kick out of “chasing” her – I will hold you in a standing position (something you love to begin with), and bob you along the floor after her. You grin and razz and bubble the whole way, until we get her. Then you grab at her face or her hair and lean in close.
So, yeah – I guess it’s been a pretty fun month! Right now you’ve got a cold, again. And despite your snuffliness, you are just as delightful and playful as ever. We won’t talk about last night. Ugh. We haven’t had a night like that in a looong while and I know it was just because you didn’t feel well. But my head is not happy about it today. Come morning, though, you were cheerful and smiling. My “little gentleman.”
What a difference a month makes.
Love,
Momma
Labels: monthly letter, owen, parenting
posted by Kate at
7:55 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home