Exams

No time to write much else.

You're hiking with your dad today.  Last night, you slept nearly straight through from 10:30 to 4:45.

Love you.

Wind in the Willows/Easter/Spring

It's Easter Sunday, and your dad and I have spent the morning trying to decide how, in the future, we'll observe the holiday.  You see, we were both raised religious and - for me, at least - Easter has always been a predominantly religious holiday.  The secular elements didn't seem to infiltrate my family as much: although we did Easter baskets, egg hunts, and egg dying as little kids, those traditions didn't really last past elementary school.  As a result, to observe Easter is to observe its religious components, and I no longer believe in those components, nor do I feel inclined to celebrate them.

But Easter is, for many people, also a secular holiday, though one I feel has been commercialized nearly as badly as Christmas.  Candy, baskets, gifts, the "Easter bunny coming" - everything out of a Hallmark card and everyone on which one must spend money.  If we celebrate holidays in this family, either secular or religious, we want them to be about experiences as opposed to things.

I'm not opposed to observing Easter as a celebration of spring, life, and rebirth.  Dying eggs, hunting for eggs, perhaps a small amount of candy so you won't be the weird child left out of the celebrations... these, I think, we can do.  Breakfast as a family.  A picnic in a beautiful park if the weather is nice.

Holidays are for families, and that's how I think we should spend them.

But you're too little for all that this year, and we're not spending time with my family (which would mean church and brunch), so what to do?  While nursing you this morning, I read you the first chapter of the Wind in the Willows, which is All About Spring, and it was perfect.

You're becoming bigger and lovelier by the day.

Yesterday vs. Today

Yesterday, you wouldn't nap for longer than 10 minutes at a time.

Today, you rolled over from your stomach to your back three times and went out to dinner like a champ.

3 Months

This morning was difficult, love.  I was so, so tired from a difficult night and so, so frustrated I couldn't get you to nap, and I cried and cried in the shower from the sheer exhaustion.  I also cried because I realized that this morning was your three month birthday, and I couldn't enjoy your three month loveliness because I was so distracted by fatigue.

I've spent today not marveling at how quickly three months have passed (which they have) or how much you've changed in three months (which you have) but reflecting on the day you were born, feeling tearful at what a perfect day it was.

I didn't plan to have you by caesarean.  We planned a natural birth: unmedicated labor and delivery the old-fashioned way.  We took classes to that effect.  We practiced relaxation exercises.  We packed a hospital bag with labor in mind.  But then we discovered, late in pregnancy, that you were breech and had likely been breech for some time.  We tried all sorts of interventions to get you to turn before your due date, but nothing worked.  Consequently, we were scheduled for a caesarean the morning before your due date.

In the week before your birth, we got everything ready.  We cleaned the house.  We stocked the pantry.  We cooked meals and put them away in the freezer.  We arranged for care for the dog.  We scheduled family to visit.  All with this sneaky suspicion that you might decide to come ahead of schedule and throw off all our now carefully calibrated plans.

But that didn't happen.

We woke early on January 15 and drove to the hospital in cold, dark silence.  At the hospital, I was prepped for surgery and walked to the operating room a few minutes ahead of schedule.  I was incredibly nervous.  But once the spinal anesthetic was administered, my lower body grew warm and numb, and my nerves subsided.  The doctors and nurses were friendly and upbeat, and throughout the surgery, your dad sat next to my head and chatted with me.

And then they said I'd be seeing you in a few seconds.  And then you were here, small and wet and screaming, and they held you over the partition so I could see your face.  Your dad watched as they examined you and cleaned out your lungs; then, once you were given the all-clear, they placed you on my chest for a few brief moments so I could hold and touch you.  I remember you were all legs and arms, right up around my neck - so warm and soft and tiny.  All the doctors and nurses said you were so cute, and you were: no wizened, old man face for you.  Your features were precise and tiny and finely carved.  A beautiful baby.

You went with your dad to the nursery so they could monitor you for a bit, and the next hour was possibly the longest of my life.  The doctors finished the surgery, and I spent some time in a recovery room with a nurse, waiting for what seemed like an eternity until I could hold and nurse you.  I was groggy from the medication but knew that's all I wanted.

Finally, they brought you to me, and holding you for that first time was perfect.  You were perfect.  You latched almost immediately.

The rest of the day is a bit of a blur, since the medication made me groggy and sleepy, but I'll never forget that first hour you were in the world.

Wonder Week 12

I'm convinced you're still in the middle of wonder week 12 right now.  Since last Thursday, you've stopped going to sleep well at night, and it's taking a world of effort to get you down.  Nursing you to sleep doesn't seem to work: you fuss and fidget and generally fight at the boob until I can't take it anymore.  Then your dad swaddles you and sits with you until you (hopefully) fall asleep.  It can take more than 2 hours.

You refuse to sleep for longer than half an hour during your naps.  Despite your red little eyes, you fight sleep and can't seem to keep from staring at everything around you.

This too, I have been assured, will pass.

Despite the effort it takes to get you to sleep, despite the difficult nights we've had, you are taking huge developmental strides.  You're so close to rolling over.  You hold your head up like a champ.  You talk to us loudly and with great intensity.

Happy 3 month birthday, my beautiful girl.

Naps

Time it took to put you down for your first nap this morning: 20 minutes.  You slept for 40 minutes.

Time it took to put your down for your second nap: 1 hour (with some sleep in crib during that time).  Still no word on how long it'll take.

Things that woke you up today:

• Norma stretched
• I dropped my phone
• My ankles popped
• The floor creaked
• The room was too bright
• You startled yourself

Lord, the effort it takes to get you to sleep (and stay asleep).

House hunting

Yesterday you helped us find a house to rent in Charlotte.  It was a long day, but you were a trooper (though it meant you had a hard time going to sleep and a tough night thereafter).

EVEN SO, we found the most wonderful house, with a yard and a screened porch and lots of outside space to play.

We may also have found you a part-time nanny (to fill-in on the days Bebe isn't available).

We move to Charlotte on June 1.  It'll be your first move but our fifth in the last eight years.  I hope it'll be a blissful year and a half.

Love you, sweet girl.

Grabbing

You're really grabbing things now.  Last night, at Thai Cafe, you clutched your burp cloth and cooed throughout dinner.  We need to get you an official blanky, stat.

Nevertheless

This.

And this.

Week 12

You are not into the idea of letting us have our own time right now.  12 week growth spurt?

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down...

But not today!  You took a nearly two hour nap this morning, which allowed your dad and me to watch the new Game of Thrones premiere.

This is how you've felt about the world today...

Beautiful days, beautiful lives

You haven't napped well this weekend, my dear, which is discouraging.

Nevertheless, yesterday morning was lovely: a walk around the mall and the American Tobacco Trail in the beautiful, sunny spring weather, followed by lunch at Toast.

Spring

It was 80 degrees today, and you met Esther and Nyla.  You didn't nap well and were tired and cranky.  When you finally went to sleep after four attempts to get you down, it was with the sleep of the dead.

Touch

Today, you pulled Bebe's hair.

You are touching, stroking, clutching, and generally feeling everything: my hands, my bathrobe, our faces, burp cloths, napkins.

Last night, you couldn't stop staring at the water coming out of the bath tub faucet.

You love having your head and back scrubbed during bath time; you make little grunting noises and smile.

You like to push your feet against the bottom of the tub and stand up.

Your eyes are so blue.

We love you.

You're 11 weeks old and sleeping better.  The weather has improved, and we're all a lot happier.