Three Months
Apparently our sweet baby girl hit the three-month mark this week. Already? Really? The fourth trimester went by so quickly again, but when I think back over the last three months, I think I did a pretty good job of savoring the newborn phase, especially considering that we were running around after Henry too.
I believe our dear girl is going to be a worrier. Her default face is slightly concerned, with knitted brows and a slightly worried mouth.
When she isn't fretting over whether we have a sufficient store of canned goods, she has the sweetest disposition and the best smiles. Other than seriously battling bedtime, she is basically happy and contented all day. We go out and about a lot because I don't really worry about her melting down in public. When she makes eye contact and realizes who she's talking to, she flaps her little fists up in front of her face and her whole body scrunches up with happiness.
She just started doing that adorable baby thing where her legs spring up and her feet go into praying position when she is trying to play with something. She will now play with toys for a little while -- the ocean playmat isn't totally terrible anymore -- but she would rather smile and make eye contact all day. She is a very chatty lady and has a wide array of vocalizations, making all kinds of coos and grunts and gurgles and something that sounds like humming when she really wants to talk to you.
We are still having a hard time figuring out how to get her to sleep at bedtime. Once she's down, she usually sleeps pretty well (going 9 hours, or waking up once in 12 hours), but it's hard to get her down. The most frustrating thing is that she will randomly go to sleep without any fuss at all, like when she went down in her crib at 8:30 every night for a week in October, so we keep thinking we have figured out what works. It also means she is capable of going to bed on her own, so every night I have a little glimmer of hope that I can go have my glass of wine with Karl at 8:30, but hope can so easily be crushed in a chubby baby fist. The sweet thing is just a cuddle terrorist. Baby demands more rocking, more holding, more snuzzles. When she started demanding to sleep, not only with her face mashed into my chest, but with my boob actually in her mouth all night long, I had to stop negotiating with her. We all have limits.
Henry is starting to interact with her more now that she engages a bit. She gives him HUGE smiles every time he comes into view, and we can usually keep her happy during dinner by putting her in her rocking seat facing Henry, as he's very entertaining to watch at mealtime. He likes to put things in her hands and share toys with her. The other day we were walking home and I had Ingrid in the Bjorn facing out, and Henry was standing up in his stroller facing us. He was holding the baby's hands and talking to her and she was flapping her legs and giving him big baby chuckles (she can't quite laugh yet -- more like smiling while she says HEHHH). I almost died of cuteness.
She still has her gorgeous mop of brown hair. It's very curly for the first day after we wash it and it makes her look like a little old lady who has just come from the beauty parlor. She and I went to the salon yesterday so I could deal with my 6-month grow-out situation and all the stylists cooed over her lovely locks.
She also has long, delicate, tapering fingers that she waves around in a very expressive manner. Perhaps this one will be Grandma Carol's pianist. I keep thinking she will be a thumb-sucker, but she has now found her thumb and, instead of sucking on it, sort of chews on it halfheartedly and then gets frustrated that no milk is forthcoming.
I believe our dear girl is going to be a worrier. Her default face is slightly concerned, with knitted brows and a slightly worried mouth.
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| What are they doing over there? Are they wearing protective gear? |
When she isn't fretting over whether we have a sufficient store of canned goods, she has the sweetest disposition and the best smiles. Other than seriously battling bedtime, she is basically happy and contented all day. We go out and about a lot because I don't really worry about her melting down in public. When she makes eye contact and realizes who she's talking to, she flaps her little fists up in front of her face and her whole body scrunches up with happiness.
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| Oh, it's you! I love you! |
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| Squee! |
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| Sweetest baby smile. |
She just started doing that adorable baby thing where her legs spring up and her feet go into praying position when she is trying to play with something. She will now play with toys for a little while -- the ocean playmat isn't totally terrible anymore -- but she would rather smile and make eye contact all day. She is a very chatty lady and has a wide array of vocalizations, making all kinds of coos and grunts and gurgles and something that sounds like humming when she really wants to talk to you.
We are still having a hard time figuring out how to get her to sleep at bedtime. Once she's down, she usually sleeps pretty well (going 9 hours, or waking up once in 12 hours), but it's hard to get her down. The most frustrating thing is that she will randomly go to sleep without any fuss at all, like when she went down in her crib at 8:30 every night for a week in October, so we keep thinking we have figured out what works. It also means she is capable of going to bed on her own, so every night I have a little glimmer of hope that I can go have my glass of wine with Karl at 8:30, but hope can so easily be crushed in a chubby baby fist. The sweet thing is just a cuddle terrorist. Baby demands more rocking, more holding, more snuzzles. When she started demanding to sleep, not only with her face mashed into my chest, but with my boob actually in her mouth all night long, I had to stop negotiating with her. We all have limits.
Henry is starting to interact with her more now that she engages a bit. She gives him HUGE smiles every time he comes into view, and we can usually keep her happy during dinner by putting her in her rocking seat facing Henry, as he's very entertaining to watch at mealtime. He likes to put things in her hands and share toys with her. The other day we were walking home and I had Ingrid in the Bjorn facing out, and Henry was standing up in his stroller facing us. He was holding the baby's hands and talking to her and she was flapping her legs and giving him big baby chuckles (she can't quite laugh yet -- more like smiling while she says HEHHH). I almost died of cuteness.
She still has her gorgeous mop of brown hair. It's very curly for the first day after we wash it and it makes her look like a little old lady who has just come from the beauty parlor. She and I went to the salon yesterday so I could deal with my 6-month grow-out situation and all the stylists cooed over her lovely locks.
She also has long, delicate, tapering fingers that she waves around in a very expressive manner. Perhaps this one will be Grandma Carol's pianist. I keep thinking she will be a thumb-sucker, but she has now found her thumb and, instead of sucking on it, sort of chews on it halfheartedly and then gets frustrated that no milk is forthcoming.
A very happy quarter-birthday to my gorgeous girl (and her delicious cheeks).
Shelby, you're such a great writer. I feel that I am there with you and your family. I certainly hope that Ingrid will have her Grandma Carol's musical talent on the piano. (Remind me to tell you sometime about the disaster that was my piano lessons with my big sister as my teacher. Ugh!)
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