Archive for February 8th, 2011

4 months.

dear ziggy,
i suspect that the future you already feels like he’s getting the shaft when looking at these letters. because you are, well, 4 1/2 months old, and this is only your second letter from me. meanwhile, your sister had no less than THREE letters by this point in her life, written in a much more timely way even.

if future you is actually thinking such a thing, i’m gonna go ahead and say it now: stop keeping score. please do your best not to compare yourself with your sister and the amount of love/time/toys you receive. know that i spend too many wasted hours worrying that you will feel shafted for being a second kid, for having to share the spotlight with a well-established little human being of a sister. and i spend an equal–EQUAL–amount of time worrying that your poor sister will hate me for making her share the spotlight with a baby.

…but then i look at the two of you, in utter love with each other, and i exhale a little. so far so good. no resentment yet.

i confess that it is really difficult for your mamas not to compare you and jude. and by “compare”, i mostly mean “contrast”. you are alike in so many ways: physical features and love of my boobs to name a couple. but wow. i am truly being schooled in the differences between babies. you are so very you, my son. you are so very not your sister.

instead of speaking in comparisons, though, i’m just going to tell you what you are like, all by yourself, at age 4 1/2 months:

for starters, at your 4 month dr appt, you weighed 16 lbs 9 oz, and were 26 inches tall. those stats put you squarely in the 75th percentile, bigness speaking. you are a long and lean little dude–and, incidentally, we call you “dude” a lot–and all those adorable baby clothes you were given are being stored away and saved for the black and sun baby. you wear mostly 12 month clothes now. i’m sure you care about such details.

you’ll be happy to know that your amazing sprout of hair has tamed itself somewhat. it grew too tall to continue standing without product. and so now it lays on top of your head like some baby combover.

your mama and i got our shit together (pun intended) this month and started practicing EC in earnest. you, sir, are a natural. nearly every time we sit you on a little potty, you do your business. just the other night, you grunted and pooed while simultaneously watching the superbowl. see? two moms can still raise a proper dude.

oh, but you’re a sensitive dude, my boy. you snuggle and hug me and hold my face in your sticky little fisty hand. you coo at me in a husky smoker’s voice. and you giggle, a deep huh-huh-huh, when i talk to you.

you love to be tickled. you dislike bulky outfits being put over your head. you love the pets. you dislike that we do not share our spaghetti with you. you love your bouncer. you dislike being in your bouncer when no one is paying attention to you.

even though you are a full-on teether now, you still love to sleep. and thank the good lord for that. most nights, you will sleep from 10pm to 5-6 am, at which point you snuggle in for a snack in bed with me. please continue this trend. i enjoy feeling well rested…

…i went back to work this month, zig. your mama says that you are a different boy when i am away. you kvetch more–you make a whiny grumble that seems to be a quiet discontent. you still maintain your jolly disposition, but your mama thinks you simply miss me. when i return home to you, you lose the grumble altogether, unless i am slow to give you the boob.

oh, buddy, i miss you too. i spend the whole of my workdays waiting waiting waiting until it’s time to come home to you. please know that i do not want to be away from you (or your sister, for that matter). this job thing i do is for you. it’s our house and our medical insurance. and you are so lucky to be at home with your mama. i’m so grateful that we.are.fambly all day every day. but still. it is indescribably hard for me to leave you every morning.

today is tuesday. the weekend isn’t too far away. i plan on spending as much of it as possible with you on my lap, playing trains with your sister.

i love you,

you and me, when we traveled to nashville together:

playing trains with jude:

wearing the headband that mama accidentally made too small for herself:


contemplating rolling over, which you can do when you want to but you usually don’t want to:


in bouncer heaven:

the handsomest:

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