Shokufeh is... home

Ten weeks old

Dear MrMan,

Now that you've hit the double digits, I guess I should switch to tracking your age in months? You've now been living outside of me for about one quarter of the time you lived inside of me. I know the current accomodations aren't always as comfortable as the old ones - not as warm and cozy and weightless - but you seem to be handling it pretty well. In fact, I think I'd go so far as to say you like this new life of yours.

You're generally very good natured, finding delight in the little things. You enjoy having your mouth wiped, in general and after eating. It tends to put a big smile on your face. Unless you're not really done eating, in which case you quickly let your displeasure with the mouth wipe be known. Quite handy way to let me know if you're sated, actually. (Another key that you're done eating, especially when you're nursing at night, is the cute little grunt you often make right before stopping.) I usually wipe your mouth with a cloth diaper. Cloth diapers are also your new favorite toy. You are thrilled to have a cloth diaper waved in front of your face. And, if I wrap it on top of your head, your ecstasy can hardly be contained, resulting in a full-body dance. Other pieces of fabric capture your interest, but none as much as a thin cloth diaper. Your new favorite song is "Head, shoulders, knees, and toes...." I usually sing it to you while you sit against my thighs, and I use my hands to point out your body parts. You're often smiling by the time I get to "shoulders," definitely grinning by the time I get to "mouth."

Sometimes, when you're talking, you sound so expressive - usually happy, sometimes sorrowful - that I feel a little guilty that I pretend to understand you, responding with questions and affirmations and coos. You're often giddy while having your diaper changed, hardly able to stay still long enough for me to put the diaper on securely. But you don't complain about dirty diapers. Your energy level almost makes me wonder if you're really my child (that's a joke, you're not adopted) - you're always on the go. When you're eating, you're often doing leg exercises. You prefer to stand than sit down. You prefer to sit down than lie down. I'm usually ready for a nap before you are. You're very good at getting us to carry you around the apartment - go, go, go.

In addition to becoming more communicative, you've become more comfortable with spending time alone. So much so that Daddy and I went to Mexico last weekend. Just kidding. But I am more able to eat these days, as I can put you in your bouncer, or reclining on the boppy or a cushion on the couch, or in your swing, while I get something from the kitchen. And then you watch me eat every morsel. You seem truly fascinated with watching me and Daddy put food in our mouths and chewing. You're not as captivated by the later process, but that's okay, as I'd probably develop performance anxiety. However, you're quite content to sit in your bouncer in the doorway of the bathroom - I think you understand that I'm doing important work as I sit there.

Maybe by the time you read this, you'll be in a phase where you find it hard to believe - you enjoy baths. You sit there very contentedly while I wash you, and don't even mind getting water in your face. You start smiling when a warm washcloth hits your face in the morning. Or when the aspirator goes up your nose. Yes, you sit still as I attempt to suck out your boogers. I think this is something you've gotten from me, as I hate to have anything interfering with my airflow.

Speaking of air, you have very loud farts. They're so loud that I can't even call them goozes, as it seems too subtle of a word. They make Daddy and me crack up. We know we need to change that, so that you learn that the appropriate thing to do is to say, "excuse me." But it's so hard not to laugh when such a big sound is coming from such a small person, especially when it's accompanied by one of your signature fists in the air - kind of the way Superman flies.

Even though you don't wear shoes, and you rarely wear socks, your feet smell like feet. This also makes us giggle. I guess it's not just the shape of your feet that you got from your dad. But the way you curl your toes is definitely like my side of the family.

One of your new habits I'm not so fond of is the thumbsucking. You don't do it all the time, but you're very adept at getting just the thumb into your mouth, with the rest of your fingers splayed above. It's so cute. And it provides a way for you to comfort yourself. But I'm still hoping it's just a phase, and I give you a pacifier when you seem in the mood for sucking but not wanting milk.

Another thing that gets me a little down is that you're getting too big for me. Of course, I will always be here for you, but I mean that your body is getting too big for mine. You're too long to make sweat sandwiches with me anymore - you just don't seem to find it comfortable. I would never purposely stand in the way of your growth, of whatever kind, but it still makes me a little sad. On the other hand, high five to you and your healthy appetite. Thankfully, I do get vicarious pleasure from seeing you sleeping on Daddy, who has more real estate than I do - the way you sprawl on his belly, virtually every evening, is adorable.

Maybe you've seen the outfit of yours that has baby animals and their parents on it, and the collar that says, "I love you more than...?" It's true - I love you more than [anything I can think of].

Love,
Mommy

Posted by Shokufeh at January 27, 2006 05:35 PM