Second Moisniversaire

Mon petit Benjamin,

You are already 2 months old. I can't quite believe we've had you in our lives for 2 months already -- and yet it is also hard to imagine our life together before you joined us.
During your second month you have, needless to say, changed a lot. For the first month you were pretty much turned inward, not all that aware of what was around you. You were interested in being fed and changed, and sleeping (though you did love bath time immediately). This month you have begun to look around your world more and more. In the last two weeks you have begun to smile and laugh. And what you laugh at the most is the mobile over your swing. There is something about the mad, circular race of the seahorse, clam, starfish, and goldfish that really tickles your brand new funny bone -- perhaps you already have a taste for the absurd? You also get your big, goofy smile when staring at the mobile over your crib and your "traveling" mobile (that currently dances above your bath).

You also laugh at the walls -- or so it seems to us. One of our vertical time activities is to walk around the house with you and tell you about your environment, but what we have to say is of little interest, what you like are the walls. Sometimes there is something on the wall -- like the crab and quilt that hang beside your changing table -- and sometimes there is nothing your papa or I can see on that wall other, perhaps, than some color or shadow contrasts. But for you there is something quite delightful and you laugh and give it a big smile.

You are getting very good at holding your head up and during tummy time you have lifted your head and turned it side to side and looked straight ahead, lifting your chest a little. Tummy time, however, has become something you don't like so much. You'd rather have "chest time" on one of your parental units during which you lift your head and sometimes shoulders and look around from left to right -- and every-once-in-a-while bang your head on your human play mat's chin, mouth, nose, or shoulder.

The weather has gotten better so we've been taking more walks. You sit in the Baby Bjorn facing your Papa (because your neck isn't strong enough to face forward yet). Less than a month ago when you were in the Bjorn your Papa would regularly check to make sure you were still breathing since your face was pretty much smashed against his chest. Now, however, you are big enough to see over the straps of the contraption and your neck is getting stronger so you can look around. And look around you do. The day before the last wisps of hurricane Ernesto swept through Charlottesville, we took you for a walk. Yes, it was quite breezy out and there was even a mist of a rain, but we bundled you up and went out into your first taste of fall. You looked from side to side for half the walk, blue eyes wide open, finally falling asleep after all that work. Your parents were amazed and delighted (of course).

You are still, unfortunately, battling with reflux. You are taking your second medication, the delicious strawberry flavored Prevacid. It seems to be mostly working, though bouts of screaming at the breast still occur, usually when you're a couple hours from your next dose of medicine. Though I am not thrilled to have you on medication, it is a relief to see you sip your strawberry med almost happily from a syringe rather than throw your head back in shock and distress, which is what happened with the minty Zantac.

Speaking of throwing your head back, you have also been refining your crying skills over the last few weeks. You now sob like a little child or wail so hard that you turn red and stop breathing for a a few seconds, mouth wide open and silent -- pretty scary for papa and maman the first time you did it. The day after your second moisniversaire you had your first bunch of vaccines and demonstrated your crying skills to the nurse who stuck you four times, twice in each leg, with nasty needles. Though the shots were toughest on you, seeing you go through that was pretty tough on us too. You've also started to cry when you are tired, signaling that it is time we leave you alone and let you get some shut-eye.

During your doctor's visit you were measured again. You are now 24 inches long (putting you in the 90th percentile, which means you are among the "taller" babies your age). In fact, I noticed that the measuring stick on the wall at the pediatrician's starts at 24 inches. You weighed 11 pounds 7 ounces (50th percentile) that day -- and we can guess that by the time this blog entry is posted, you will be coming up on 12 pounds. Your head has grown two inches since birth (now 15½ inches).

As I finish this blog entry I am watching you sleep in your swing. You look very pensive, your hand against your cheek like Rodin's Thinker. Every once in a while you let out a little noise or frown or smile. What's going on in your dreams, little one?

bisous, maman