I don’t have the brain power to figure out a better way to arrange this stuff, so both of you get your own little letter. Let’s see if I can keep this going for a few months. For now, here we go…
- Since you would periodically decide to take off your diaper and throw it willy nilly around the room while you jumped up and down in your crib, we decided to start potty training. It took you about 30 minutes to realize if you just squeezed out 2 drops at a time, you could maximize your M&M reward output. There may be some weight gain involved in this process, and not just from me secretly eating half the bag of your “rewards” every time you nap.
- Recently you’ve begun doing a double cheek kiss, like an old fancy European woman.
- The speeds of Pook are as follows: 1. High. 2. Asleep. That’s it. You’re busy from 7AM ’til 7:30PM.
- You started climbing out of your crib. A lot. We reluctantly switched you to a toddler bed when we tired of putting you back in your crib 374 times each night.
- You really like being praised. And if you do something you’re proud of, like put your shoes on or pour coffee grounds all over the floor, you shout, “You did it! Good job!” and clap loudly until someone recognizes your achievement.
- I gave you Children’s Tylenol a couple times for those incoming molars, and you’ve become addicted. You ask for “medicine” 50 times a day. When I occasionally believe your teeth actually hurt, you sip the grape flavored stuff from the little cup like it’s a fine scotch, and stop halfway to say, “Mmm, it’s goooood.”
- You’re still pretty into Annie. We’ve had exactly zero smothering attempts so far, and we’re all celebrating this.
- I started taking you in public again a couple months ago, when running full speed away from me in the middle of a parking lot/street/(insert every other dangerous setting) became less of a game for you. I suspect you feel pity for me. It may help that I give you a pep talk before we go into a store, when I promise you a “treat” if you’re good, and certain death if you’re bad.
- We use the OK-to-Wake clock to try and keep you in bed until 7AM each morning. Sometimes you get up a bit earlier and try to get us to let you out (we have a gate in your doorway to prevent your escape, obvi), and we have to go in trying to look like we’re all sleepy and disheveled to tell you, “It’s still nighttime, everyone’s asleep. Go back to bed.”
- You’re really into Charlie. Which is shocking considering his approach is to run full speed toward you with his fists clenched and teeth gritted, yelling, “Beeeebeeeeee!”
- Next week you’ll be 4 months old. I don’t even know how this happened. I’ll be honest, the newborn stage is not my favorite. But wasn’t it like, 3 years longer with Charlie?
- I don’t know if it’s because we’re more chilled out the second time around, or because you can sense that additional chaos would drive me over the edge… but you’re a pretty great baby. You smile a lot. You’re simple and straightforward with what you need. YOU TAKE A PACIFIER (*All the praise hands emojis). If I were a sucker, I’d think I could handle a third kid. Hahahahaha
- To carry on with the theme here, you also sleep well. You’ve been sleeping (mostly) through the night for the past month or so. Again, more tricks designed to make me reproduce more. Very sneaky. I’m onto you guys this time around.
- We had a tough go at nursing the first month that spiraled us into using formula for most bottles now. It wouldn’t be fair not to mention this here, because I’ve laid a nice thick layer of guilt on myself about this, especially since I nursed Charlie exclusively past a year old. It’s really NBD, I’ll just blame every missed exam question for the rest of your life on this.
- Your wardrobe is more impressive than mine. You require 32 outfit changes per day to ensure you make use of every ensemble in your closet.
- Omg bonnets.
- You’ve had the rolling from tummy-to-back thing down for a long while now, which can mostly be attributed to the weight of your giant head. You’re also starting to get super active during tummy time though. Kicking your legs and pulling with your arms like you want to crawl across the floor. Which is terrifying. I need exactly 2 more years before you’re allowed to be mobile. Thanks.
And now, per usual… a photo montage.