My little pibsqueak. You are so mild mannered and sweet. You’ve come around to the k’tan and now prefer to be worn or held as often as possible, but you also handle it really well when I need to set you down. You are amazingly tolerant of your sister’s cuddles/manhandling, and often sleep through her attempts to pick your nose or ‘dance’ with you (aka, when she grabs one of your hands and starts pulling and waving it around). Your biggest frustration in life so far seems to be gas bubbles, which you have in copious amounts. Seriously, the toots that come out of you are astounding. But when you’re not grappling with one of those, you are either looking at us with this serene/wise-beyond-your-years expression, or asleep.
You still aren’t sleeping super well at night, but it’s pretty early for me to be hoping for otherwise. You’ll get your circadian rhythm eventually. Actually, last night was fantastic, but that’s all I’m going to say on the matter because I don’t want to jinx it. The night before was pure hell. So, you know, it all balances out. I should just be grateful that even when you are awake at night, you aren’t crying inconsolably. You just want to be held, bounced a little, and to have the light on so there’s something to look at. The problem comes from me being so desperately sleep deprived that I try to lay you down at the earliest sign of sleepiness, prompting you to fuss and complain. If it weren’t for Junip, I’d probably just give in and try to go nocturnal with you.
Yesterday was scary. You’d been out of sorts for a day or so, and it built into a fever. I took you to urgent care but they sent me straight to the ER, since you’re still so little. Blood and urine tests came back normal, and you started eating again with some Tylenol in your system and your fever down, so they released us, but we’ll need to go back for another check in today. You’re probably fine, but it’s unnerving how quickly something minor could become something major. You just don’t really have any immune system yet.
It does seem a little crazy how quickly being a family of four became normal. I feel like Junip has already forgotten life before you. No matter where we go, she makes sure you’re coming (“baby kin, too?”) and has taken to breastfeeding all her favorite toys. I find myself bouncing even when I’m not holding you, and your dad just carries on his afternoon routine with you strapped to his chest. You are an intrinsic part of our world, for sure. We love you, dinker.