Dearest Boy: Month Three

Dear Jensen,

You are a sweet little ducky baby.  You've discovered a different kind of smile where you sort of stick your lips together and push them out like a tiny, flat duck bill.  

This is not the only kind of smile you have developed, but it is your favorite and mine, because the look in your eyes makes me think you are merely humoring us by doing it.  But no matter the expression on your mouth, your eyes give you away - the same big, expressive eyes that I saw when looking at your sisters at your age.

I took the leap and graduated you from sink baths to baby tub baths and you adjusted, after a time, that is.  Trying to make you comfortable in the progression from me holding you to you being propped on the bathing  "ramp" by yourself, I didn't think about how much of a shock placing you into the tub and letting go might be.  

You. Did. Not. Like. It. 

I can only imagine that you thought I was abandoning you and that there was no one who would help while you flailed about, teaching yourself to swim.  Suddenly, as soon as you stopped kicking and screaming, you looked from your left to your right and realized the little tub had sides you could hang onto, and so you did.  Problem solved.

Each bath after the first was a little less scary until you finally began to enjoy your quiet time.  Taking you out of the bath is still an horrific event, but this is something you will overcome as well.

You, like many babies, enjoy naked time.

Most of your naked time is during diaper changes, and it only involves your legs being bare, but HOLY HECK do you do a happy baby jig every time your pants come off!  It is becoming increasingly difficult to actually change your diaper and stay clean myself because once those Velcro straps are undone, your entire lower half turns into Bruce Lee doing a series of roundhouse and ball kicks to my arms.  The main problem with your lower half happiness is that a few kicks in you have created a breeze, and a breeze around the nether-regions of a naked baby usually leads to a mess.  I'm not going to lie, getting peed on by a baby is really not as cool as it seems, no matter whose baby it is.

This month we also introduced the beloved play mat, a lovely contraption that your sisters and a few other babies have logged many miles on in their early months of life.

We were so diligent about tummy-time and following the baby rules with Freya that she was probably forced to lay on mat much earlier than three months of age.  Ilsa, we were more lackadaisical and she probably didn't see it until much later.  With you, we thought bringing it out this month would be perfect since you have good head and neck control and seem to need more distraction and entertainment.  Plus, we want to give you a leg up on rolling/crawling/walking so that you can get away from your smothering older sisters a lot faster.

Your first trip onto the play mat was short lived when you put your face flat down on the ground and just screamed into the mat until Daddy picked you up.  I think you were telling us that tummy time will not be tolerated at this point in your life.  Not that you enjoyed laying on your back that much more, but I figured we could wait on any activities that involve you facing downward for now.

As much as I love the newborn phase - all snugly goodness and sweet smells - it is so fantastic to watch a baby develop their own personality.  Yours is just slowly peeking through, from your quiet morning observance to your angry squeaks and squawks when you are left alone for too long.

Just a few days ago, you started to turn your head toward the sound of your name.  I still can't help but call you Jensen John when I'm talking to you, a habit your sister's have picked up readily as well.  They call you a bevy of things, from Buddy to Mister to Jensey Boy (they made this up themselves) and no matter the nickname, you LOVE having them near you.  We are still working on the difference between being gentle and squeezing the baby (Ilsa), but every day it gets a little better.  If a mama ever needed good helpers, those two are perfect for the job whether it be fetching something from your room or just making silly faces at you or singing to you so that dinner can be made or a solo trip to the bathroom can be done.  It's the little things that make life so good!

The best part of month three is that you've learned how to laugh.  You have made a lot of other "excited" noises before, but there is nothing sweeter to the ears than the laughter of a baby!  The funniest person in your life right now is your Daddy, of course.  There is no one better at making strange noises to elicit little bursts of giggles from you.  He has always had a very expressive face, but his exaggerated contortions just crack you up! 

In another month, we'll go back to the doctor to talk about all of your physical and mental growth and boy has there been a lot.  I don't know if it is the same in other families, but taking children to doctor appointments falls on the shoulders of the mom in this one.  This is far from a complaint, as doctor visits end up being a mini-brag session and who better to share accomplishments with than someone who really truly cares on the same level about every dirty diaper, eating habit, and tiny milestone?  It is my one chance to show off the hard work I've put into making sure you have been cared for and loved from the moment I knew you even existed. 

Smiling or not, I think you make the perfect top to our family totem pole, little duck boy.

Love,

Your Mama

Dearest Boy: Month Two

Dear Jensen,

You're pretty cute.  This makes getting through the day with a constantly hungry little baby a lot easier.  I'm not sure how it would be if you weren't cute, but I'd say at this point in your life you are living off of your looks.

This month you WOKE UP.  You went from a super sleepy, snuggle-loving, lazy boy, to an alert little person.  Napping is hit and miss, and when it is miss, it is my cue to turn on the dog and pony show.  You don't want to just be fed, you want to eat and make noise and look around and focus on everything else but the task at hand.  When you finish eating, if you haven't passed out, you expect someone to be front and center before you so you have something to stare at and examine.  This can be exhausting, especially if you have woken up several times the night before.

On that subject, I finally relented and moved you into your crib.  Last month we shared a bed, mostly for my own convenience, but since you had your own perfectly good bed in the same room it seemed wise to introduce you to it.

The first step is always napping.  I think I can say that most babies do not know the feel of cribs or bassinets in their first weeks of life because there is always a willing pair of arms nearby to hold them while they sleep. I absolutely love having your little face tucked into my neck, your sweet baby breath tickling my skin, and subsequently, your drool covering my shirt.  What I do not love about holding a sleeping baby is the feeling that you are holding a grenade that has lost it's pin.  Unless you are also napping with the baby, it is nerve-wracking to be in charge of keeping the grenade from exploding.  Either find yourself a comfy spot with lots of pillows to prop up your arms, or start thinking of ways to keep the grenade happy if it does, in fact, explode.

The one thing that has made the crib transition a bit easier is a lovely invention called the "sleep positioner".  This little thing has survived both of your sisters before you and is still going strong almost five years later.  Who knew that two little foam pieces connected by Velcro could be such a lifesaver?  Not I!  But it has been.  Not only does this keep you from rolling onto your stomach - it also simulates you being held because we have it set just far enough apart that we can squeeze you between the two pieces comfortably.  Because of this, your first crib nap was approximately four hours long.  Four whole uninterrupted hours of bliss - for all of us.  Do you think that I took that time to lie down and rest?  Heck no!  That was four hours I was never going to have back, so I took full advantage by doing several loads of laundry, paying some bills, working on the computer, vacuuming a few rooms, and putting dishes away.  I may have even snuck in a quick trip to the bathroom.  Praise be the napping baby.

Weeks five through eight also meant that your cute little crop of hair would start falling out in strange patterns.  It didn't even fall out in a pattern we hadn't seen before, in fact, it fell out just like your sister, Freya's, did when she was your age.  We lovingly refer to it as the "reverse old man" pattern baldness.  I like how uniform the baldness is because it tells me that we are doing a good job of laying you on both sides and on your back when you sleep.  If not, you would have one small bald patch and no hope of a comb-over with the little top mohawk you've retained.  Good thing that mohawk hung around because it is really in style right now with the elementary school set.  You are way ahead of your time, young man, way ahead.

Your face is already changing so much in these short first weeks.  This is so hard to keep track of, being the person that spends all day with you, but is more noticeable to those who don't see you as often.  I love having other people point out the similarities between you and your sisters, but also the differences.  In a certain light, you have Freya's mouth.  When you are wanting attention, you put on the same intense face that Ilsa has.  The next day, you are completely yourself and then the cycle starts all over again.

A definite difference is that you are merely a complainer.  Where some babies scream from the moment they are set down, you instead contemplate being left alone, wiggle around and wave your arms, then you begin complaining.  It is hard to describe what that sounds like when the person has yet to learn words, but we liken it to an angry cat minus the hissing. You will sputter out a handful of 'yeows' and 'mrahs' until your legs get into the action and start thumping whatever is nearest to them.  This is the best part of your tantrum because you forget that you were making any other kind of noise and focus on kicking as hard as you can until you get tired.  Let's just say that if kicking were a sport, you would have the gold medal.

Sometimes I look at you and wonder if you like me as much as I like you.  I feel like I obsess about you a little bit, though most of the time I am hiding this feeling from others because it's not like you are my first baby or my only child.  But you are my last baby and my only boy, so I think I can claim this luxury and not be thought of too badly for it.

There are days that feel incredibly long and days that absolutely fly by, but each one is new and better because you are a part of it.  I keep waiting for that "different" feeling to hit me - the one that comes with having a boy.  So far, nothing.  It could be the age as babies are just babies until they start developing boy or girl tendencies, but who is to say?  Do mothers of boys feel different when they finally have a girl?  Am I weird?  Or at least weirder than normal?  Can I finish out this letter by only writing sentences that end in question marks?

Anyway, I just have to say that I am enjoying the heck out of you.  There isn't much about you that I can really complain about yet and maybe there won't be anything to complain about for a long time.

The number one question I am asked about you is, "Is he an easy baby?", and the answer is yes.  But, I don't know if you are easy because you truly are not a complicated little guy, or because you are my third and I can finally honestly say that I know what I'm doing.   Either way, it makes me happy to answer yes and know that I am not lying to seem like the perfect mom.

I'm far from perfect, but you are darn near as close as one could get.

Love,

Your Mama

Dearest Boy: Month One

Dear Jensen,

Welcome to the family!  

You have been so wanted for so very long and the surprise of expecting a little boy was more than either your dad or I was ready for.  I know that he, like all other men, was always hoping for a boy but thought that we were destined to only have girls.  He has been outnumbered in this house since the day we brought Coda home and now he finally has someone on his side.  Hopefully, when you are older, you will be his ally!

I started this tradition of letter writing with Freya after she was born, and tried to keep it up with both of your sisters when Ilsa was born but I just couldn't do it.  I am going to write a monthly letter to you for at least the first year of your life.  I don't want to make the goal too lofty as our lives are pretty busy right now and I'd hate to overshoot my abilities, but I think 12 letters is something I can do.  Especially for you, my only boy.

There is something strange that happens every time we bring a baby home - I start to feel as if we were never going through life without that extra person.  Being a newborn, you sleep a lot, like 90% of the day, and as I watch you sleep, I have a hard time remembering my life without you in it.

Before you were born, I was sort of prepping myself for "life with a boy" as it was going to be so foreign compared to raising girls.  So far, other than dealing with different parts in the diaper area, you are very similar to your sisters, thank goodness!  And I don't mean that you are like a girl, but you are like every other newborn that has basic needs that are easy to meet.  The biggest difference is having all the boy clothing - dogs, trucks, and footballs, in blues, browns, and grays.  It's weird.

You are also very noisy.  You make tons of noise all the time, whether you are asleep or awake.  I'm not complaining one bit about any of it because I always know you are breathing whereas with your sisters I was constantly checking to see if they were moving and used the crib sensor pad until they were almost a year old!  That's a total rookie mom move, one I don't need to use with you.

Did I mention how many diapers you go through daily?  It seems a bit excessive, as if you are trying to set some kind of record.  Granted, we got a ton of diapers as gifts, but you are literally blowing through them so fast that I have had to tap into the giant bin already.  Plus the Diaper Genie is full and we have resorted to throwing the dirty diapers into the garage - your sisters find it fun to throw them at my car and sometimes I find them on the hood when I go out there.

Your Grandma gave me some pictures of Daddy when he was a baby and I was going to put them on here to compare to your pictures, but then I forgot them at her house.  That was a month ago, so you can only imagine the other things I've forgotten in the mean time and have never gotten around to doing.  I do have a really good excuse (you) for being mindless and as long as I don't lock you in the car or forget you when I leave the house we will probably make it.

I find myself narrating pretty much every part of the day to you.  This was alien to me when Freya was born and I felt silly talking aloud to a tiny baby who didn't have a clue what I was saying. Now I talk to myself quite a bit because my memory isn't so great, so having someone to talk to makes me look slightly less crazy.

Along with the talking there is singing.  Singing is reserved for extremely fussy moments because it helps you calm down, though I'm not sure if my singing is calming or you just settle down so I'll stop.  Whatever helps you feel better, I'll keep doing it.

It's funny what songs a person can come up with on the fly - mostly songs I like that I just plug your name into or that fit the situation.  I have had a really hard time not using your full name when talking to you.  I don't know if it is because it flows so well or because I like the sound of it, but I did that so much in your first week that I found myself singing "Delta Dawn" but using Jensen John instead.  Yes, I'm that old and have strange musical tastes.  I'm sorry if it embarrasses you twelve years down the road, but that gives me a long time to sing whatever I want to you!

Some other favorites are:

The Angry Young Man (Fooling Yourself) by Styx.  This is used when you are very red faced and screaming.  I think the title says it all.

Let 'Em In by Wings.  This is a popular song for when you won't give up a burp.  In this case, I replace the word "someone" with "some burp".  Example:  "Some burp's knocking at the door, some burp is ringing the bell. Do me a favor, open the door, and let it out."

I Got The Feelin' by James Brown.  I just like this one because half of the lyrics are the word "baby".  Baby baby baby, baby baby baby, baby baby baby, baby baby.  I got the feelin'...baby baby I got the feelin'.  See?

This has been a big month for you - and for us.  Our first time bringing a baby boy home and realizing he'd have to have his "man parts" surgically altered.  You had this done exactly on your one-month birthday, not much of a present if you ask me.  But you did wonderfully and everything has healed as it should...I think.  Seriously, this boy thing is so unfamiliar, but we are all mucking our way through it!

Jensen, you are a miracle.  You are just what our family needed and we are so lucky to have you.  You are daddy's big guy, your sisters' buddy, and mama's boo boo bear.  I promise the nicknames will get better in time, and if they don't, just know that they are all given to you with love.

Welcome home sweet baby.

Love,

Your Mama