Open Letter to Desmond: Week 4

Dear Des,

This week you are finally able to turn your head towards sounds (usually the sound of my voice) and can follow objects (lazily) with your eyes.  You make the best spit bubbles ever.  You have this way of streeeeeetching where you arch your back so far back that your head almost touches your butt.  Your face gets super red when you do that.  It also gets super red when you scream your head off, which you have been doing increasingly more and more throughout the week.  It seems that you scream and scream and scream when you are trying to poop.  We sincerely hope that this is a phase.  We are in utter disbelief that babies don't know how to poop or fart...they have to learn how to do it.  Unbelievable.  How hard could it be?  Pushing out something that's the consistency of pesto (and looks very much like it) shouldn't be that hard to do.

I'm just starting to get the hang of things with you: feedings are going a lot better with you and you are sleeping more consistently than ever before.  Sometimes you'll even go 5 hours in between feedings!  You love looking at Pirate's face...he tries to lick you sometimes, but I won't let him get too close to your face.  Your baby acne is starting to go away but you're starting to get baby dandruff.  You've been up to the University a few times now and I'm certain that your spongy brain is soaking up all sorts of doctoral stuff, like fellowships and maternal health.  By the time you're 4, you'll be publishing your own papers.

Your abuelita HATES that we do this, but we call you the Little Demon all the time.  When we say it, she reprimands us and says, "You're not a Demon.  You've got Baby Jesus in you!"  She loves you very much and hates that she can't be here all the time with you.

You loving your abuelita...

You giving your abuelita some attitude...

Your little bum is adorable!  It kind of looks like an old-man butt, but you're filling it out quite nicely!  All that breastmilk you're gobbling up is definitely helping out.  (P.S. I know you're going to hate me one day for posting pictures of your bum on the internet, but it doesn't show your face, so it's OK!)

Old Man Butt.

My dear friend Josh sent me a congratulatory message on facebook recently.  The last sentence of his message was this:

I want something to live for that is bigger than me.

It struck something inside of me and has stayed with me for the past week.  I think that the transition between being a woman and being a mother has been so incredibly difficult that it has kept me from bonding fully with you.  That sentence has made me realize that I would do anything to protect you. My heart breaks every time you inadvertently smile at me or when you quiet down to listen to me babble to you or when your eyes light up (I think) when I lift my shirt and tell you you're about to get your "milkies."  Your life and your experiences in the future ARE bigger than me and worth protecting with every ounce of my being. 

Ramblings Overheard this week:

Dr. Stanford at one of our study meetings:
"He's such a good baby!"
Me:
"He's showing-off."

Me, to your abuelita:
"Mom, he's crying so much!  Like hours upon hours!  I'm losing my mind...please come back, please!"
Your abuelita, to me:
"No he's not.  My baby's a good baby."

While visiting Billy at work:
Emily, one of Billy's office managers:
"He's got such big hands for a baby!"
Me, to Emily, not thinking before speaking:
"He's got a big peener, too!"
Emily:
"Yeah, I bet."
Billy and I look at each other and wonder what in the hell she meant.  :)