Growth: You are growing out of things your brother wore when he was six months old. It’s crazy. I can’t seem to wrap my head around it. You are longer than a giraffe’s neck with viagra stuck in it. Isn’t it funny that we refer to you babies as long until you’re upright, at-which-point you become tall? I think it’s funny, anyhow. You weigh 14lbs, 4oz (91st percentile) and are 25 inches long (96th percentile). The doc says this puts you on track to be 6’3. You weigh more than your brother did at five months and are as long as your brother at five months. Just a reminder, you are TWO months.
Appearance: You have a receding hairline. There’s no two ways about it. The hair on both sides of your head has fallen out and you’re rockin’ the cul-de-sac look these days (note the cul-de-sac in the first photo above) . Not to worry, you are sprouting new hairs. Oh yes, you have some baby acne… it sounds cuter than it is if we stick the word baby in front of it so we’ll just keep calling it “baby acne” into your teen years if we have to.
Every now and again, I catch glimpses in you of your brother. What’s that you say? You’re related?
Feeding: I’d like to say I feed you on demand, but by “on demand” I truthfully mean on my demand. I admit I’m a bit noratic when it comes to keeping my milk supply afloat. This means that I will begrudgingly wake you from your slumber so I can empty the ta-tas. I try to keep to your schedule as much as possible and do this by pumping when you go for longer stretches. But if it’s been more than three hours, I tell you it’s time to eat.
We’ve started what my midwife coined “recreational” bottle feedings. Your Papa gives you an ounce of pumped breastmilk to get you used to drinking from a bottle. We waited way too long to start this with your brother, which resulted in him not drinking a single ounce during my first 12 hour shift back at work. I can’t handle that torment this time around, so rest assured, you will be a milk guzzlin’ bottle drinker by the time I have to return. You’re having some trouble thus far, however, refusing the bottle some days and taking it after several attempts on other days.
I had a clogged milk duct this past month and that sucked. There is nothing worse than a painful lump in your breast. I lie, three hours of pushing you out pretty much takes the cake. But my breast hurt. And it sucked.
Sleeping: By your fifth week of life you formed some sort of consistency, going down at about 10pm and waking up at 2am and again at 6am. You breastfeed for about 15 minutes on each side. I change your diaper in between, waking you up if you’ve dozed off after taking only one side. We had a swaddle sac tucked away in the closet from when your brother was an infant. Not sure why we never used it, but it’s been such a time saver this time around. I just ordered you a new one, as you’re growing out of things faster than Christie Alley when she stopped Weight Watchers (low blow, sorry Christie).
Since your sixth week, you’ve been sleeping consistently for an 7 or 8 hour stretch (10pm-5am) with a few hiccups here and there. After I feed you at 6am, you sleep again until 9:30am, when I wake you up to feed if you’re still sleeping. I pump twice in the morning and once in the afternoon to maintain a healthy milk supply for you. You can thank me now and later.
I should mention that your crib is all the way down on the lowest setting. This is not because you are standing or climbing but instead because your Papa is too lazy to raise it. But we’ll save the ranting and raving about your lazy Papa for another post. Until then, if your mama complains of back pain in the future, know it was from lifting you in and out of a lowered crib.
Development: You’ve begun the baby coos. Technically speaking I guess this should go in it’s own “talking” category, but all it would read is: You coo. The end. In any case, it’s the sweetest sound in the world. You have the most peaceful and calm demeanor. You rarely cry and never need to be held for the sake of being held, though we do love to hold and cuddle you anyway (deal with it). We have yet to use any of the fancy gadgets loaned to us, like the swing that plays music or the vibrating chair thing. You smiled for the first time at six weeks. It happened once and it’s become my daily mission to make it a more regular occurrance.
You’re able to track objects in front of you and like to lock eyes with us. We like this too. You have some interest in your mobile, which allowed me to shower and get dishes done when your brother was a baby. But now I’m chasing him around while you’re content under your mobile so I’m not sure who is going to clean the dishes, or myself, for that matter. Somehow we’ve all managed.