Today you are four months old. This month has been a good one. Life feels like it is getting a little easier for both of us, and we are finding a bit more of a rhythm together. You squeal and squeak with laughter, especially when we kiss your face and neck. You really are, without a doubt, most happy when you are at home. You laugh more, feed more and sleep more when we are at home. I've started calling you my home boy.
Feeding you is slightly challenging because you are only content to nurse while both of us are lying down. This is particularly challenging when you get hungry and we're not at home. So, in the past month, I have nursed you while lying down in a park in Leominster, on a beach by the River Wye, in a meadow and in Page Park. I have lost count of the number of times people have suggested you might have reflux because of your horizontal preference, but no, you are absolutely fine. This is just how you roll. Life with you is certainly never dull.Since birth you have fought sleep in an incredible way. But in the last week, we've turned a corner. We discovered about three weeks ago that you prefer sleeping on your tummy (you started flipping over in your sleep), and in the last week, we've been able to put you down on your tummy, along with the customary white noise, give you a gentle jiggle, and you fall asleep within ten minutes. This might not sound particularly exciting, but it is HUGE. Especially when you consider that Ruby napped in a sling and in the buggy for the first fourteen months of her life. The only downside to you sleeping on your tummy is that I am slightly terrified at the possibility of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, which is far more likely to happen to babies who sleep on their tummies. This means that I frequently check to see if you're still breathing while you sleep - something I never did with Ruby! It can be quite entertaining watching you get to sleep. Sometimes, you shuffle around the bed like a little caterpillar, pulling your knees up to your chest then pushing them away to propel yourself around until you get comfy. Considering that you cannot crawl yet, it is incredible how much distance you can cover when you move like this.
You love to chew on hands and fabric and have a vice-like grip when you get your gums around our fingers. You seem to enjoy our singing and I am amazed at how often you break into a smile when we sing to you. I love that Ruby has also joined in and sings to you when you are sad.
When we hold you, your preference is most definitely to be facing outwards. I realize this is a small and possibly uninteresting thing to observe, but for the age you are now, it's these little things that matter and make a big difference to you. It's our job to get to know you and what makes you comfortable, and this is one of the things we have learned.When you cry relentlessly, I tend to have one of a few different reactions:
1) I cry along with you because I feel like I am failing caring for you well and giving you what you need.
2) I find myself thinking that I could actually bite through a wine glass. I can't say that this is something I have ever contemplated doing before, nor would I actually do it, because common sense prevails and a trip to A&E with a cut up face is not in the least appealing, but there we go.
Thankfully, these episodes are becoming far more infrequent, so our wine glasses are safe for now.
All my love,