Oy. This has been a rough 30 days. Your doctor says the time between 1 and 2 months is the hardest period, and lord I hope that’s the case because if it gets any harder I’m going to have to do something radical like accept Jesus as my Personal Lord and Savior and Give All My Troubles Unto Him. And nobody wants to see that.
On the plus side, you’ve learned how to coo and do real smiles this month, and there’s just about nothing cuter. You’re really smiling at us now, not just sort of practicing your facial muscles. We get big grins in the morning especially, and you also love to smile and talk at your Daddy when he’s giving you your medicine. You tell long stories composed of “ah-AHHhhh” and “oohaaahh” and “eh” – and really, it’s surprising the range of expression you can deliver with such a limited vocabulary. You especially like your Grandma Carol’s face and voice; she can get a story out of you even when you’re fussy, which lately is A LOT.
The classic case of colic starts at two weeks, so we thought we were out of the woods, but as soon as you hit 6 weeks old you started making up for lost time. Our previously well-behaved infant disappeared, and in her place is a howling, cranky, gassy, fuss-pot. Oh, you don’t cry all the time, and I know some parents, god love them, have it much worse. But you manage to wear us out nevertheless. The worst part of it is that you keep tantalizing us with a good day here and there, a day where you sleep and sleep, and wake up in a good mood and we have so much fun. But then that’s followed by three or four days where you’re all, “Sleep? What are you, NUTS? Sleep is for pussies! Real babies cry, dammit, and I’m nothing if not a real baby!” The only place you’ll sleep longer than 1/2 hour is next to me, after nursing. I’ve been logging in some loooooooong hours on the sofa this month, kiddo. This last week you’ve coupled this disdainful attitude towards Morpheus with an absolutely ravenous hunger, so not only am I sleep-deprived but my poor nipples feel like they’re going to FALL OFF. Oh, for the boobies of yesteryear, those hallowed bygone days when I had tits instead of teats.
But. For all that you can be a royal pain in the ass, I must admit that you’re still worth it. For one thing, when you’re not crying (and sometimes even when you are, actually), you’re still so damn cute I could eat you up. And now that we’ve finally got this breastfeeding thing down, it’s awfully gratifying to watch you get chubbier and chubbier. You finally fit into your clothes, which is a good thing since your Grandma Kathy got you so many outfits you could pretty much wear something new every day of the week. And now that you’re a little more … conscious … than you were last month, it’s more and more fun to play and talk with you. I know you’re trying your best to sort out this whole outside-the-womb thing, and I’m sure it’s crazy-confusing, so we’ll cut you some slack. But see if you can adopt a more Zen attitude in future, OK? I mean, colic is just sooooooo last month.