You are officially five months old today. I swear it seems more like five minutes. You are getting thicker, heavier, longer. You have a better sense of what you need and when you need it, though I’m often still left guessing. We almost had a schedule going a few times this month, but then we didn’t. And I’m not sure what happened. At least we have you sleeping in your room during the day. That’s something, I guess.
You laugh a lot these days. And talk. My goodness, how you love to talk! Especially when there is conversation happening around you. You certainly like to have your thoughts taken into consideration. I have been trying to teach you to say “mama,” but you don’t quite have it yet, although every time I say “mama” to you, your grin expands like it’s the best sound you’ve heard all day, which completely melts me every time. And lately, you’ve started doing this thing where you move your mouth around but only add the voice in sporadically, which makes you look badly dubbed but is also insanely adorable.
Speaking of adorable, it seems that in the looks department, you actually resemble your mother more than I originally thought. We looked at some of my old baby pictures, and it’s pretty clear to see. Your dad’s a little disappointed, seeing as how he’s just a few features shy of being a total clone of your grandpa, but we both knew going into this procreation thing that my genes and his genes were both fierce and mighty. I’m not sure if you can tell, but I also happen to look a lot like GT. So it was bound to be an epic struggle as to whose genes would come out on top. It looks like I won this round, but it’s not entirely impossible that you will morph into more of the paternal features as you grow, so we’ll see what happens there.
Recently, you’ve developed an itch. I’m not sure if it’s something I’m eating that your body can’t handle or if it’s your eczema getting worse. And you have developed enough control over your arms and hands that you scratch. A lot. And if I don’t keep your fingernails clipped as short as possible, you end up looking like you’ve been the victim of some animal attack. We went to a play group the other day, and both the other babies and some of the mommies asked what had happened to your head. Because you were all scabby from scratching. I want to make that itch go away, especially because it disturbs your sleep, which disturbs my sleep, but it’s not easy. It’s more of this trial and error stuff, and so far, we’ve got the error down pretty good.
You are getting so strong. You like to pull yourself up to a sitting position when we offer you our hands. And you have gotten pretty good at sitting all by yourself, although you did take a pretty good dive the other day when Dad just wasn’t quick enough to catch you. This is why we usually practice the sitting with you on the soft bed, or with your butt in the Boppy. You look so grown up when you sit, it amazes me. And from the look on your face half the time, I think it might be pretty amazing to you, too. And when you pull yourself up to stand? You can hardly contain your excitement about that new vantage point. Your legs bend and push, working hard to get strong enough to balance and support you when you want to go exploring. And I’m sure that you can hardly wait for the day that you can go touch and taste your environment without leaning and reaching in a way that can be tough for us parents to decipher.
But the leaning and the reaching is new, too. Your eyes fix on an object or area of the room and your arms go out, your lips get small and your body tips in one direction. You’ve led me to the remote control, the kitchen, your dad’s Packer hat, your night light, the washing machine and a number of other things that you were completely happy to stare at or fondle for entire minutes at a time. There is so much to learn and see and do, and you are so eager for it all.
You are still such a happy baby. Your face lights up a room, and you love to see new people, as long as Mom’s nearby. And when I leave you for awhile, you are always so glad to see me when I come back. Big smiles. Flailing limbs. Like the wagging tail of a puppy, it brings such warmth to my very heart to be so loved, so needed. It’s so hard to write about this love I have for you that grows and changes almost imperceptibly each day, but you are such a blessing, such a miracle, such a joy. Both your daddy and I are floored that we got so lucky to have you in our family, our son.