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letter to M

Dear M,

You are four weeks old today, which can only mean one thing—another trip to the ped. You have grown another half inch, which keeps you above 95% for height (22 inches). But the big news is that you have gained almost 2 pounds in 2 weeks! You now weigh 11 lbs. 6 ounces, which is also 95%. Best news of all—no vaccinations this time. You were alert and good-natured during the appointment.

Right now you are napping in your bouncer. Despite all that hippy-dippy stuff your dad and I read about babywearing and keeping you close, you do seem to nap better when you’re not being jostled around the house. So you often sleep in the bouncer or swing. Don’t worry, we also let you nap indulgently on our laps and chest rather often. And, we have sling-time once a day or so. (By the way, thank you and your sister for being on good behavior last night the first time I had to make dinner on my own without backup. C played with the salad spinner, putting my tube of Lanolin inside it and watching it bounce around, while you laid in the sling and eyed me suspiciously as I heated up soup from the freezer.)

You are still going pretty easy on us, sleeping 6 hours at a stretch most nights. Thank you. Maybe I’ll give you an extra half-hour before curfew when you’re a teenager to show my thanks. Although every few days you decide that a 3 a.m. feeding would be a delightful idea. So on second thought, never mind about the curfew. You also cling ferociously to your burps. Just let ‘em go, dear. Especially at 5 a.m. when I’m not in the mood to coax those coy little things out. After lots of good effort we end up putting you down too soon, and you start that grunty throat-clearing thing which makes me want to knock another half-hour off the aforementioned curfew.

You have had this tiny piece of green glitter on your head for about three weeks. Despite having had several baths, wardrobe changes, and kisses on the forehead, it will not fall off. I could concoct some cutesy story about the baby fairy blessing you with her sparkly wings, but I’m pretty sure it just fell off C’s Snow White costume and somehow adhered to you.

While we’re on the topic of sparkling—I still think it’s mainly gas and not a real smile, but I do like the way your face lights up when I come into view. The feeling is mutual, my dear.

Finally, C “loves you so very much” and says as much daily.

Love,
Your mother

P.S. You have started talking back to me today, vocalizing beyond just crying. I love your throaty voice.

P.P.S. The forehead glitter has migrated to just below your right eye. There is also a new one further up on your head. And I found yet another piece on my chest this evening. Maybe there are fairies after all.


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