We have made it to the first major milestone. Both of us. The baby and me.
That would be 13 weeks, 1 day.
I'm still without more than a few consecutive hours of sleep a night. But who's counting?
It still seems surreal that I even have a baby. Sometimes I look at him and I'm all "Who are you and how the hell did you get here?" It was just over a year ago that I ran a marathon. And now I have a baby and baby weight.
We are still getting to know each other, Xander and I. Or is it Xander and me? Now that he's no longer screaming constantly, I actually have a chance to study him without both hands clutched over my ears.
He is very, very smiley. He thinks it's absolutely hilarious when I take the sleeve of his shirt and pull it to get his arm out. Sometimes he gets the hiccups after he laughs.
He's also incredibly demanding. As in, I demand that you carry me constantly, don't even THINK about putting me in that bouncy chair for ONE SECOND or I will SCREAM my little lungs out! Do what he says, and no one gets hurt. No one's ear drums, that is.
But you can tell the world is opening up a bit for him. Last week Sawyer was running across our living room (which is maybe 5 steps for him) and crashing into a chair. Xander was totally watching him and cracking up. He makes eye contact with me from across the room. He's starting to notice the dogs.
Sometimes I wonder what he must think, with all the noise and craziness around him. Possibly that he's on a bad acid trip?
He looks neither exactly like Sawyer or Sage, but is a nice combo of both (except with hair). His temperment isn't as easy-going as Sawyer's was, nor is it as enraged as Sage's when they were babies.
He has delicious chubby thighs.
I took him for his 12-week checkup last week. He weighed 13 pounds, 11 ounces and was 24 inches. He's in the 60s as far as height/weight percentiles.
He has large hands.
I started to feel guilty that I haven't given him one second of official tummy time. So I did that Monday. I put him down on the pink rug in Sage's room. And he promptly rolled over. So I put him back, and he rolled again. Then I put him in my room, in front of the full-length mirrors on David's closet. And he rolled again. Hasn't done it since though. Guess he's not the trained monkey we'd hoped for.
He's started to cut his two bottom middle teeth. We can see the white bulges. Poor guy.
The biggest news of all, though, is that we are still successfully nursing. His pediatrician was thrilled by his growth and how healthy he looked. I'm just happy it's working. I am still not eating any dairy, soy or wheat and I'd be lying if I said this was easy. It isn't. It sucks. I'm exhausted and hungry all the time. And I'm beyond sick of eating turkey burger patties, sans cheese and bun.
I did have a little plain pasta the other day and he didn't explode, so I might gradually add some wheat in. We'll see. I don't want to get TOO crazy.
But I'm determined to stick it out as long as we can. When we're done, I will gorge myself on ice cream, pizza and chocolate. And that'll just be breakfast.
Oh, and the picture? I wish I had a great one to post of him on his three-month birthday. But hell, we forgot to take any. This one was taken a week and a half ago. Third child syndrome and all that.
Hey, we remembered to feed him and change his diaper and nobody drew on him with scented magic marker - it's a good day!