Last week you turned three months old! Hooray!
You are not lacking in rolls or cheeks or cankles, my sweet boy. You are all pudge, and I am all in love with it. You are a great sleeper and only wake up once at night to eat. I’d say that sleeping through the night would be preferable, but we’ve been hanging out in this 3 a.m. wake-up phase for so long I find myself awake before you start fussing many times. I will get some eye rolls, but I think I might miss those overnight dates when they are gone. Just you and me in the stillness and peace, holding onto one another.
You are starting to find your voice and will coo and squawk when you get worked up, usually on your play mat when that hanging elephant gets on your last nerve. You’re also sitting in the Bumbo and your exersaucer now! What an exciting life you lead. You will entertain yourself for a little bit in all these contraptions, but your most favorite activity is hanging out with someone who will talk and laugh with you. You seem pretty social and a lot of times I think you fuss simply because you want some company.
This month you are an official roller-over! I’ve forgotten every word of every parenting book or article I’ve ever read, so I have no idea if this is advanced or weeks behind, but you’ve definitely mastered the back to tummy roll. More than that, you are a MOVER. Every night, without fail, I will come in to feed you and find you squished right up against the crib slats. A stray foot or arm has been stuck several times. You may even sleep through the night if you had a California king sized crib and could roll and scoot all night long with no obstacles. But don’t hold your breath, champ; Mama is still stuck in a queen bed.
Your smiles stop my heart, and every now and then they come with a lilting squeak that must be the soundtrack for joy itself. You are such a happy baby, and I cannot tell you how beneficial that has been over the past month.
I will tell you the truth, little man: it’s been challenging in this place with you and Addison. My optimism slowly dissipated into feeling overwhelmed and burdened with the weight of two lives and two schedules that seemed to require the sacrifice of mine. It’s not that I don’t love being your Mama—I absolutely do—it’s just that I am having a difficult time remembering who I am outside of that.
But in the midst of that struggle, you are here with bright, cheery eyes that tend towards blue; full, pouty lips that move to mimic mine; your Daddy’s rounded nose; chubby feet that kick and squirm incessantly and the sweetest, most patient temperament. In these three short months, you have seen me at my worst more than I’d like to admit, and still you seem to say, “It’s okay, Mama.”
If I hold you with arms that are weak and frail, you don’t want to get down. If I curl you into shoulders that are heavy and slumped, you still nuzzle into them without hesitation. If I look at you with eyes full of tears, you still know who I am. You still come alive with recognition and delight, and that, little Asher, has been a saving grace.
I know that my voice and and my smell and my face help define your world right now. That responsibility is ever-present in my head. But I also know that your staccato sounds, warm smell and sweet smiles have anchored me in the here and now this month. You have helped me rediscover the simplicity that I have been craving and the joy I was afraid wouldn’t be found. On dark days, you have been such a beacon of light in my life, in our home and in our family.
Looking ahead, I already know the sunnier days are waiting. I am so grateful I get to share them with you.
From My Whole Heart,