Month 4 - Recap

Sooo, yeah. I know you can't see me glaring at you, but trust me. I am. SOMEbody has decided to stop sleeping through the night. SOMEbody thinks that '1 O'Clock Mommy' is a waaaaaaay fun Mommy. SOMEbody thinks that if he doesn't see me at least twice a night, he's not doing his job as a baby. SOMEbody is wrong. SOMEbody is a crackhead. '1 O'Clock Mommy' is NOT fun. '1 O'Clock Mommy' is un-fun, grumpy, crazy-haired and bleary-eyed. You know who's even un-funner, grumpier and crazier-haired and blearier-eyed than '1 O'Clock Mommy'? '1 O'Clock Mommy AND 3 O'Clock Mommy.' You know who IS fun? 'Mommy Who Has an Infant Who Goes More Than Three Hours Between Night Feedings'. THAT Mommy is refreshed (relatively speaking) and smiley. Perhaps I've neglected in explaining the differences in these two Mommies. But now I have. Now you know. Now go back to sleeping through the night. (I should note that if you hadn't gone almost three weeks of sleeping through the night, I wouldn't be fussing at you for not doing it. But you did do it. So I know you can do it. There's nobody to blame but yourself.)

You are still the drooliest, slobberiest, gnawingest, wet-necked child on the face of the planet. You go through no fewer than three bibs per day. And those are just during the times you're wearing clothes. (It's been so annoyingly warm and humid lately that you've had a lot of time just being in your diaper). I keep checking for teeth, but I don't feel any yet. Maybe you just find your fist tasty. Because goodness knows, I find your toes and cheeks and belly impossibly delicious. Oh, and your dimples. Your dimples are scrumptious.

You've starting curling your arm around my neck when I carry you. I don't think I need to explain just how adorable this is. (But in case I do, here goes: It's ridiculously adorable). You also like holding on to my hair. This is only slightly less adorable, as you have a pretty good grip but haven't yet mastered the art of gently opening your fist to release my hair.

I love watching you watch Natalie. You study her so intently, soaking up all her antics (and trust me, that girl has antics for DAYS). When you cry in your carseat, Natalie usually announces that you're crying because you want to get out and play with your big sister. She's exactly right. I can tell you're just itching to play with her - and vice versa.

You're really excitable. Especially when Daddy, Natalie, or I act silly (which is pretty much all the time). And you're not just 'kind of excited'; you're more like 'yellow lab excited'. You wiggle and squirm and squeal and bounce. Your arms flail, your legs kick. If it weren't for your gargantuan head weighing you down, I'm quite convinced that your moves would cause you to defy gravity, take flight, and zoom around the living room.

Everybody (friends, family, complete strangers) comments on how much you look like Daddy. I hate to say it, but I don't really see it. But I think that's because I'm around you all day. I mean, I think you're heart-wrenching adorable and I find Daddy incredibly cute. So based on that, then yes, you two look alike. I'm enormously lucky to be around such good-lookin' fellas. (Now you say "And I'm enormously to be around such good-lookin' ladies, like you and Natalie". Now I say "You're right. Now you can have a cookie.") Because around this house, I'm not above using cookies to get compliments.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for March 9, 2012:

• Dogs sniff out anti-terror role at London Olympics
• As sea levels rise, whole country eyes move to Fiji
• With tensions high in Mideast, evangelical Christians tighten embrace of Israel
• Bloggers not impressed with Romney's Super Tuesday
• The Perfect Place for Peyton: Seattle
• Spanx creator Sara Blakely becomes youngest woman on Forbes Billionaires List