When I wasn’t looking, Thomas outgrew his bassinet. A friend stopped by and when she saw him she said, “Wow, he’s almost out of that thing!” Sure enough, she was right.
The same thing happened with 0-3 month clothes. I put on a doggy sleeper that was one of my favorites when David was a baby, and he barely had room to stretch his toes. He is growing so, so much. He already weighs 13.4 pounds and has grown two inches in the past two months. TWO INCHES! Can you imagine? Babies are incredible!
Wait, let me just stop right there. Babies are incredible, but mamas are AMAZING. I have been feeding this kid almost every two hours around the clock for the past two months. So when his doctor told me he’d grown two inches my jaw dropped because I expected she’d say at least 10 inches. And that he was training for American Ninja Warrior.
We spent a long week traveling this month, and the trip was hard on Thomas. He’s just an infant! He’s supposed to just go with the flow, right? He’s not aware of his surroundings! He won’t get stressed by a change of scenery! RIGHT? Wrong. Thomas had multiple, inexplicable, unpredictable, bouts of screaming. I spent several evenings on vacation holding my baby while he screamed, screamed, and screamed. I sang, swaddled, shushed until he hit a wall of exhaustion and passed out, whimpering. All the while I worried about reflux or food sensitivities, and I Googled “can I get a vacation from my baby screaming on vacation?”
Then we got home and he never did it again. When your baby’s screaming, there’s a great temptation to try to “fix” your them, or give them some sort of diagnosis. But Thomas just needed me to listen to him. Thomas was telling me was that he missed being home, where he could have a long morning nap and outgrow his bassinet in peace. Or maybe he was just mad because he wanted a turn on the paddle board. There’s no way to know.
As a two-month old, Thomas isn’t quite out of the newborn phase, but he’s also not quite a baby. He’s a bit awkward, cross-eyed, and still working on head control. Two months is when babies get acne and bald spots — it’s like adolescence and midlife crisis all at once.
But he’s also cooing and smiling, and he looks great in blue.
Don’t tell anyone, but I’m kind of ready for the newborn phase to be over. I do love newborn babies. Ah, there is nothing better in this whole wide world than a newborn baby. I love how sweet and cuddly they are, oh my gosh the smell and the feel of their skin. I love it, I do. But I also really love everything that’s coming. I love the big smiles and giggles and when they’re a bit more interactive and sturdy.
I feel like the newborn phase is dragging. Smack dab in the middle of his newborn-ness, it feels like he’ll be a newborn forever.
Then I look at these pictures, taken just a month ago. Look at my teeny baby boy curled up like a little caterpillar in that bassinet that he barely fits in anymore.
Maybe it is going fast.
I think about you all the time.
I wonder what you’ll be like; whether you’ll be an easy baby, or a screamer. I wonder if your fuzzy blonde hair will be curly like Daddy’s, or if you’ll like pop music as much as Mommy.
I’m telling you, because I know I seem distracted and harried most of the time. Even if my attention is split, my affection is not. That goes for all you Krieger kids, but I especially want you to know, because you aren’t the first born, or the only girl. You’ve only known a mama who’s attention is spread thin and distracted; frayed and exhausted. You’ve only known a mama who says things like, “NO MORE TALKING TO MOMMY UNTIL SHE GETS HER COFFEE!” or who legitimately forgets when I last changed your diaper, when you last slept or ate. When David was a baby, I kept a chart for when he ate, how long, and then journaled at least 3,000 words about the whole thing. For you it’s different.
I think about you. Will you be wild, or careful? Will you be obsessed with balls like your brother? Or will you love ducks and books like your sister? Or will you spend the first year of your life screaming for something totally different? Perhaps you’ll be really, really interested in folding laundry?
I want you to know, when I go to bed at night, I think about you. And I think about how grateful I am to be your mama.