I don’t know what to say, Peanut. You are just the sweetest, most mellow little child. Everything about you seems to fit. When we picked your name, I imagined a quiet little observer, and that’s what you’ve proven to be. I can’t tell you how many times other parents have commented to me (an hour or two into the play date), “Wow, I forgot you had a baby on you.” You are just so content, smiling at the world with those pale, gray eyes.
You are such a daddy’s girl; it’s pretty incredible to watch. Your whole face perks up when you catch sight of him or hear his voice. You’ve started laughing, but it’s like you haven’t totally figured it out yet – it comes out as more of a honk. Drew seems to be the only one who can reliably coax it out of you.
You are loving the bumper jumper, and even not minding tummy time so much. You love to grab and chew, and are starting to get into crinkle. You’ve begun tracking my spoon with your eyes when I eat with you on my lap; not too much longer and you’ll be getting curious about food. You’re like clockwork with your sleep schedule: four short naps throughout the day, and a nice nine hour stretch at night. I’m trying to avoid some of the sleep troubles we had with Juniper (she was just a few weeks older than you are now when she stopped sleeping through the night), so we are very slowly, preemptively, beginning some sleep training (lulling you to sleep with rocking instead of nursing). You’re not a huge fan, but are dealing pretty well. You sort of furiously gum your hand and lower lip (still no interest in a pacifier) which strikes me as a pretty good self-soothing technique.
I just feel so lucky to have you. Having two kids is, honestly, a lot harder than I thought it would be, but you seem to go out of your way to make things easier for me, in your own baby way. I appreciate it, kiddo.