Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Benjamin Button Turns Three Months!

Three months has got to be one of my favorite ages.  When you play with baby dolls as a kid the "newborn" bitty baby type is a three month old I'm sure of it.   Old enough that they aren't pooping tar, losing their skin, or covered in pimples, but young enough they aren't pissed off about food or mobility yet. (or the lack thereof)    They're so cuddly and soft.  They coo and smile and snuggle.  They don't have stranger danger or separation anxiety.   It's awesome.

This particular  little Will version is going through a funkilicious stage right now.  He is losing all his hair on top (see exhibit A)  and his ears are taking a decided turn for elvishness (which is a nice way of saying they stick out).  He's waged war and won over the pacifier debate.  I gave up and let him keep his thumb. (so kind of me)   He's petite all over, but his head is particularly small which lends to strangers being rather surprised he stands and sits so well and generally behaves like a three month old instead of a newborn. 

Like his brother Jamie, he's a total tv addict.  Craning his head around every which way trying to get a glimpse of whatever his brothers are watching. Sigh.  

My number one goal each day is to keep the two year old from accidentally killing the baby (or himself for that matter).    I don't know how the human race has survived this long.  I certainly couldn't without Costco and Trader Joes keeping us from starvation with all their gmo, soy infused, preservative happy freezer food.  Yum.  In some past life I did things like make yogurt from scratch, feed us all vegetables from the garden, and make probiotic rich snacks like homemade pickles, fermented beets and sauerkraut.   That woman has been replaced with me...the sleep deprived, never fully dressed, surely freezer-waffles-can-be-served-for-breakfast-lunch-and-dinner woman. 


That's why babies have such tiny kissable toes.  And why I have a big comfy chair that almost got curbsided, but instead is large enough to fit me and four boys wanting snuggles and books read to them.  (I'm looking at you Cortez's...God bless you, this chair is awesome).

Then one of them elbows me in the face, while the other one farts, and the other one plays the drums on the baby, at which point I want to sell them all to the circus. 

Happy 3 months little one... may you survive being the baby of the family!