Hello to one and all. We are not on the verge of a nervous breakdown, nor are we delusional from lack of sleep. We have just been very, very full with all of our new family-i-ness.
Samuel is really wonderful. He is a very pleasantly dispositioned baby who eats well and seems to be fairly happy with the three people he got sidled with. He sleeps o-k; not fabulous, not horrific, but well enough.The stretches aren't an issue (he is starting to consolidate his sleep nicely), he does that ok, he just wants to be snuggled near somoeone most of the time. But, he likes his papasan, so that gives some much needed respite to mom and dad, even in the dead of night.
Roslyn is over the moon about her baby brother, and other than a rough week or two at the beginning where she had to reconcile the negotiation for my attention and trying to canoodle her grandparents when they were here, she is just a great big sister. She is growing by leaps and bounds, in particular in her vocabulary. Last week she said a five-word sentence, with all of the necessary words included, and she has taken to counting to five. She still thinks every color is blue, but sometimes I think she does that as a great big game (ask her the color, she says blue, and giggles when you tell her no, it's yellow), so it may just be sheer laziness on her part. Even without an infant in the house, she doesn't look like a baby anymore, she is quite firmly a little kid.
At the moment with Sam, we are in the midst of a developmental spurt (eight weeks, for those followers of The Wonder Weeks out there) and he is doing all sorts of things. He is very aware of the world around him, and is starting to understand that it can be interacted with. Unfortunately, this has brought with it the realization that I am a separate entity from him and that has made for some distressing moments, like today when I went to the Y and he cried for over two hours for Jason. It would seem that even more than my first child, I have "enchanted" him and poor Jason is ill-equipped to be a substitute. To that end, we are fiercely trying to introduce him to a pacifier, but to mediocre success; I suppose that at this point we'll just be content that he will take a bottle from Dad and leave it at that.
So, over the last eight weeks, a few absurd thoughts have crossed my mind and, while I didn't write them down, I did take the trouble to remember some of them to share with you all for you voyeuristic enjoyment.
Contrary to what I would have thought, Boys have a lot more crevices to clean than Girls in the Diaper Area. Poo seems to go everywhere.
This child is noisy. He grunts and sighs and ugh-ugh-ughs all the time: asleep or awake.
Obviously, Jason and I each have been "nailed" by a stream of pee. But, what you probably didn't know (or think to ask) is if Sam has gotten himself, and he has . . . in his head . . . thrice now. It occurred to me when he managed to shoot pee up on to his head that it was a real shame as this ability would probably be the stuff of legend on the playground if he could do it when he was seven.
He is exceptionally strong in his neck and spine. This is demonstrable as not only have people commented upon this to me, but last night I put him on his stomach for tummy time and he turned over to his back.
And last, but not least, I think I may have given birth to Mr Magoo.