Two months

Dear Callum,

Today you are two months old. When I sat down to write this letter and started sorting through photos, I realized how incredibly glad I am that I have a blog to document this stuff--because it's only been two months and yet you've changed so much already that I have trouble remembering parts of what it was like when you were completely brand-new.


When I sat down to write your one-month letter I wondered how, in the future, I would know what to write about each month. How I would know what had changed from month, where you had been and where you were going. But now I know that you will always change from month to month, and I will always be able to follow along. It doesn't make me sad that you change, because even though we lose pieces of who you were, we gain so much more. You just get better and better, and we know it's going to continue like that.


This past month you really started smiling. You smile when I come in to get you out of your crib in the morning. You smile when we pick you up. You smile on the changing table, in your car seat, on your activity mat, in our laps. You smile at us pretty much whenever we smile at you. And, for the first time, just the other day, you smiled at a stranger because she smiled at you first.


You've also become incredibly chatty this month. You coo and gurgle and babble and shriek. You make noise whenever you see something exciting or interesting, which at this point is pretty much everything, including the ceiling. Sometimes you make these noises in response to us talking to you, and I swear it sounds like you're trying to answer, like you think you're talking.


In the past few weeks you've gotten really into your activity mat. You absolutely love lying there, batting at the toys with your hands and feet. Sometimes you get so excited that you wave all four of your limbs at once, and from across the room it looks like the entire activity mat is rocking. You can stay that way for close to an hour, vastly entertained and not at all bored. I keep thinking we need to switch out the toys on that thing to change it up for you--and we will--but for now you seem more than satisfied with the same old toy rotation every day.


You desperately want to roll over. You did it once, at 5 weeks, but that was just a fluke, and I'm pretty sure you weren't even trying when you did it. You were just on your belly and then a second later, on your back. Now, however, you WANT it... but you can't quite seem to recreate it. When we put you down on your belly, the flailing and grunting begins immediately. You wave your legs desperately in the air and push with your arms until you're stuck on your side. Then you grunt and shriek desperately, but you still aren't quite to the point of pushing yourself over to the other side. My guess is that it's coming very soon, though.


You're still growing like a weed. I took you for a quick self-weigh earlier this week and you came in at exactly 13 pounds, putting you in the 70th percentile. You are also very long. It seems like we just retired your newborn-size sleep sacks because you no longer had room to stretch out your legs in them, and now your feet are coming very close to the bottom of the small-size sleep sacks as well. We have retired a good chunk of your 0-3 month clothing, and find ourselves digging into the 3-6 month drawer more and more. Your growth is no surprise, though, given how much you eat. You're taking upwards of 30 ounces of formula per day, in addition to nursing. The beautiful thing is that you've started taking more food at each feeding, and eating fewer times per day. This is especially awesome at night, when you often (though not always) give us 5- or 6-hour uninterrupted stretches of sleep, and one glorious night, you slept straight through from 11 to 7.


By now it's undeniable that you are infatuated with your dad. Whenever he gives you a bottle, you stare up into his face the whole time. His voice soothes you and you stop fussing when he picks you up. When he holds you, you smile and coo, and though you can sleep anywhere, you never look as peaceful as when you're sleeping in his arms. You're a dead ringer for him, too--and by now I'm almost positive your hair is red, like his when he was a kid.


You are still an incredibly laid back baby. You truly never fuss unless you're hungry or covered in bodily fluids. Even a massively wet or dirty diaper isn't enough to bother you--only if it leaks all over your clothing, or you spit up all over yourself, will you get annoyed enough to fuss. In generally you are one of the happiest, calmest babies I've ever seen. And have I mentioned how adorable you are? Because you are also most definitely one of the cutest babies I've ever seen.


When I look at you I sometimes have trouble believing that you are the baby I was pregnant with all that time. You are the baby we dreamed about and planned for and couldn't wait to meet. And now that we've met, you are this real little person, with feelings and opinions and personality. You are a person all your own, and we are so lucky that we get to know you and love you and be with you every day.


Love,
Mama

Newborn attachment

So it turns out, I love having a baby. LOVE it.

It helps that we've been incredibly lucky with Callum so far, and he is generally calm and laid-back. So far he's been sleeping like a dream and eating like a champ, and fussing pretty much only when he's hungry. I know at some point this will change, but we are loving it while it lasts.

It also helps that he's pretty much the cutest thing ever. He's smiling up a storm. He coos when you talk to him. He's captivated by toys. He likes to lie on his activity mat and wave his hands and legs so they bump into the toys. He can do that for upwards of 45 minutes at a time without getting bored. He's rolled over once (tummy to back), and now he's trying really hard to recreate it. Every day during tummy time, he grunts and tries to heave himself over. He's getting really close. I imagine in a couple weeks he'll be doing it regularly... and that will be the end of tummy time.


I love this baby so, so much, to the point where it almost hurts. I love him so much that it almost makes me wistful because it's just so MUCH, if that makes any sense. I love him so much that sometimes I miss him while I'm holding him.

And it has been so awesome to read the blogs of other new moms, and see what's the same and what's different for each of us. I'm constantly impressed by how we all adapt, how we all figure out what works for us and our own individual babies, and how things that aren't right for me or Torsten or Callum at all can be totally, utterly right for other people.

One area in which I notice that I am different from a lot of new moms is in terms of how I express my attachment to Callum. I love holding him, for sure. But I also love being able to put him down. I love that he is entertained on his activity mat and in his bouncy seat, that he sleeps peacefully in his swing and on his boppy. I have no problem putting him down and taking a break so I can eat, shower, work, call family or friends, blog, sleep, spend time with Torsten, or just relax.

I also have no problem letting other people hold him. This never bothered me even when he was just two days old. For me, there's enough baby to go around, and I'll have plenty of time to enjoy him when other friends and family members are done loving on him. I don't feel compelled to take him back when he's in someone else's arms. And I love how much he loves his dad, and how much time they spend together. I enjoy that Torsten can give Callum his bottle, and that they can snuggle together happily for hours.


And, I don't mind leaving the house briefly without him. I can spend an hour running errands, or go to a meeting with our accountant, knowing that he's safe at home with his dad, and that's totally fine. Of course I'm happy to see his adorable little face when I get back... but sometimes it's nice to be out and about on my own, just me. (Though I will say that I am not yet ready to leave him for an extended period of time, or with anyone but Torsten. Maybe in a few more weeks.)

I've been struck by how other new moms feel differently. How it feels off for them when they aren't holding their baby, how it feels totally unnatural for their baby to sleep in his crib in his own room because they want him right there next to them all the time.

I can totally understand why they would feel that way... but I personally do not. I love my baby, I love having him with me, I love holding him, and believe me, I shower tons and tons of affection on him (as does his dad), but I am also happy and relaxed when he's not in my arms, or even if he's in a different room.

And the great thing is... all these ways of being, of feeling, of attaching to your newborn? They're all fine. All of us have happy, loved, well-adjusted babies. All of us are meeting their needs and our own, and enjoying the process. It's just a very early example of how, as parents, we all have to figure out what works for us. And if we can do that without judging people who have found that different things work for them? So much the better.

Two years of dog

Dear Montana,

I'm a few days late blogging about it, but I promise we didn't forget the actual event: this past Saturday was the two-year anniversary of the day we adopted you.


Last year when I wrote you a letter I had a lot to say about how you'd evolved: you'd gone from a timid, shaky, bony, classic rescue dog to a confident, healthy, active, happy, beloved pet. And this year? Well, you're still a happy beloved pet. There hasn't been a whole lot of evolution. And that's a good thing, because you're pretty close to perfect exactly the way you are.


Things that have changed for you this year have mostly had to do with the environment surrounding you. When I got pregnant you had to cut way back on your trips to the dog park, because I was too sick to take you, and even once the morning sickness had passed, the trips stayed a lot more sporadic than they had been. Now there's a baby and as a result you've been pushed lower on the totem pole. But I will say that I was mentally prepared to not be able to deal with you when I had a baby, but I haven't felt that way at all. Thank goodness, because I can't imagine the guilt if I stopped thinking you were wonderful and adorable.


Our neighbors also got a cat this year, and as a result I'm surprised our front window is still intact; that cat likes to walk in front of it and sometimes even sit on the sill, like he's taunting you, and you have thrown yourself into the window trying to get at the cat so many times that I'm surprised you haven't sustained brain damage by now. But I'm pretty sure if you and the cat ever actually got into the same room, the cat would end up being the one in charge. Because you just aren't an alpha dog, and I'm pretty sure that cat is an alpha cat.


I know you're still undecided about this whole baby thing at the moment, but I promise you, in a few short months you will be totally on board with his presence here. Because in a few short months the kid will start eating solid foods, and you know what I hear about babies? I hear they're messy when they eat, and I'm pretty sure you'll be reaping the benefits of those messes. So if I were you I'd start sucking up to him now so that down the line, he'll let you stand directly underneath him while he eats.


You still have your own spots and your own little routines. You like to lie in your bed in the living room, and you love your crate in our bedroom. Every night when we go to bed, you follow us up the stairs and go straight into your crate, where you lie and wait for me to give you your bedtime treat. Then you lie down on your side and go straight to sleep. You're still great in the mornings, too; your bladder must truly be made of steel, because you can sleep all morning and not need to go out. We thank you for that, and hope that Callum learns from your example sooner rather than later.


You love rugs and towels and blankets, and if we aren't paying attention you will manage to take over a tummy time blanket before we actually get the baby onto it. You think all blankets are for you, and even though it's annoying when you get another clean baby blanket dirty, you are so cute and blankets make you so happy that we can't be mad at you for it; we just let you stay on the blanket and go get another one for the baby. See, you aren't our last priority in everything. Right?


I would really love to get inside your head and know what you're thinking most of the time. I'd like to know how you see the world, the way you understand things. I'm curious if you wonder, for example, why we don't turn the heat down when it's boiling hot in the summer, or if you think the automatic windows in the back seat of the car are like magic. I know your brain is tiny, but I really want to know how it functions.


But most of all if I could get inside your head, I'd make sure you know that you are a crucial part of our family. You are sweet and loving and adorable, and we are so glad you're here. And for our end of the bargain, we promise not to let the baby torture you as he gets older. You will be his first lesson in the proper way to treat animals. Because you are a lovely and delicate dog, and you deserve to be treated accordingly.


Love,
Mom