Thursday, December 17, 2009

Dear Mac: 5 Months

Now is probably not the best time to write this. You didn't seem to require sleep last night, but I did. Oh yes, I could have used some sleep. And here we are at some ungodly early hour, considering how late we went to bed, and you're on your mat, wide awake, shriek-laughing at the Christmas lights. I'm just trying to keep my eyes open, counting the minutes until your next nap.

But I will gather my thoughts so we can pay tribute to the splendour that is five months:
- you now use your hands so precisely to reach, grab, pull, push and scratch. And can we talk about the scratching? My face looks like the cat took a few rounds out of it. There's this thing you do now where you're falling asleep and you reach up and softly stroke my chin, my cheeks and then suddenly you dig your nails in. Can you explain why my sweet boy turns into a rabid little animal trying to tear my flesh and why this has to be part of the sleep process?
- You can roll front to back but you haven't figured out back to front. So you start crying for rescue. Eventually I give in and roll you back, but you immediately flip onto your tummy again and start crying. It's such a fun game.
- I've been reading you The Dangerous Alphabet by Neil Gaiman as a bedtime story because I like it. I hope that's not why you haven't been sleeping. You seem to like it. Well, in that you try to eat the pages.
- You love your daddy. He's the only one who can consistently get you to laugh.
- I can tell that you adore me, which feels so good. Even though you dive bomb my boobs, I like to think it's more about me as a person.
- You've tried pablum and these baby rice cracker things. You gagged.
- You have distinct emotions. You can be downright sullen. Your dad still talks about the day he looked over and you were staring at him like you were possessed by something dark and evil (I still maintain that you were probably just taking a dump). You have a temper. But when you smile, you light up the room. After rocking you for 45 minutes, I look down only to see you staring up at me and I want to scream, but then you smile and when I say, "why aren't you asleep?" in exasperation, you laugh. I can't help but laugh, too.
- It already takes a lot to entertain you. You have about a five-minute attention span for any given toy. I dread the time when my tool belt will need to consist of more than a walk to the touch the stickers on the window or a round in the jolly jumper.
- Speaking of which, you love the jolly jumper and man, can you get some air! It's enough to make a mother a little nervous.
- The scabs from your burns are starting to fall off. I'd be surprised if, by the time you're old enough to read this, you even have scars.
- You love the dog. The dog thinks you're loud.
- If one day your naturopathic doctor wants to know about any persistent problems as a baby, feel free to mention the diaper rash you've had since you started wearing diapers (so, your entire life so far). We have a stockpile of creams, prescribed and otherwise, and you're naked a lot, and yet it persists. The good thing is now you can scratch it to give yourself relief. The bad thing is the sound of scratching at night.
- I almost forgot! You have two teeth! Or "teefs" as I like to call them. They're on the bottom. They're so cute, your little chiclets. But holy man, I don't get why it's evolutionarily necessarily for baby teeth to be so freakin' sharp.
- You have one more month to start sleeping longer than three hours at a time. Consider yourself on notice.


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