Saturday, August 9, 2008

16 Weeks

Dear Norah

You are now 16 weeks old. That is 4 whole months! I cannot believe that you are 4 months old, that we have spent the last 4 months with you, that a whole 4 months has gone by since you were born. It feels like it has only been 4 days since you burst into my life with your beautiful clear skin and all your fuzzy black hair. Sheesh…4 months.

I cannot even begin to name all the ways in which you have changed the past 16 weeks. But I will try Little Turkey.

Norah, I think when I was dreaming about being a mama I had this vision of life being very predictable at this point. By 4 months I expected to know exactly what you liked and what you didn’t, I expected every day to be the same as the day before it with small discoveries sprinkled in to mix things up-things like rolling and laughing and crying. I expected to be able to tell people everything about you-what makes you happy, what makes you laugh, what makes you angry, and so on. But life is not like that. Every day with you is a guessing game. We wake up in the mornings and I have no clue what is going to happen. Will you scream all day? Will you squeal and squawk all day? Will you be in such a good mood that my head explodes? It’s anyone’s guess. What works one day will not work the next. You like to keep me on my toes. But here are some things I do know about you.

Your hair pretty much all fell out. All your precious black hair was forced to surrender to your love of playing on your back. For a while you only had hair on the nape of your neck and the crown of your head and that made me very sad because I was so proud to have a baby with hair. For a few weeks you looked like a tiny toothless monk. Now it is starting to grow back so you have these long wispy pieces that stick out among much shorter pieces. And all your hair is now brown. Whatever, I’m just glad that it is growing back so I can nuzzle your fuzzy head again.

You can roll over.
But girl, you are stubborn. One day when we were playing I put you on your tummy and suddenly, without any warning or hint at what was coming next, you rolled clear onto your back! Just like that! The look on your face when I freaked out with pride and surprise was one that clearly said Come on woman. That was nothing. But seriously Norah, that kind of stuff needs to be preceded by blaring horns and big neon signs.
After the initial roll you rolled a good 5 more times but then abruptly stopped. A few days later you rolled again in front of an audience.
I happened to get your second roll recorded on my phone and I have shamelessly shown it to anyone who happens to talk to me. And every time I watch or hear that video (the audio is pretty awesome; You are yelling and I am squealing) my heart swells with such awe that it feels like it will burst clear out of my chest. I love you.

Despite your rolling ability, you do not like tummy time. You will tolerate tummy time just long enough to get a few pictures, but after that you put your face in the blanket and yell, coming up to drool and breathe. Just know that in a very short time you will have no more patience for lying on your back and will spend all your time on your tummy and then your knees. Mobility is upon us.

You have an awesome laugh. There are a few things that have made you laugh out loud. First was playing Peek-A-Boo with your daddy. Then bouncing up and down on my legs. Then playing airplane. Then me singing Old MacDonald loudly to you (in public, I might add). And today, when I tickled your thighs and knees. You are hilarious when you laugh, so funny that you make me laugh too and then you see me laughing and you laugh harder and we end up in this laughing cycle that makes us both tired. I’m tired just thinking about it.

You prefer when I stand and hold you to when I sit and hold you. We are going on an airplane in a little over a week to visit your grandparents in Roswell so I have been making you sit on my lap to practice for the plane ride. We’ve worked our way up to 10 minutes. Only 50 to go!

You like to have some space. Sometimes you get mad at me if I try to hold you for too long. You like to play with me and especially when we sing and I make you dance, but you like to play alone too. You spend lots of time playing on the floor or in your swing or in your bed. You talk to yourself and suck on your toes and kick your feet. This is a good sign I think because it means you know you are ok and that you feel safe and secure. This makes me happy.

You ball your fists when you get mad or stressed. I do the same thing. Your daddy calls them “Mama Fists”.

You like your bed. In fact you like your bed so much that you can’t really sleep if you are anywhere else. This is simultaneously awesome (because you nap in the day now) and annoying (because you won’t nap in the day if we are not at home).

You can grab things and everything your grab goes into your mouth. This is a pretty fantastic and hilarious talent. Everything you touch finds its way into your mouth. And sometimes you gag yourself on accident. Silly baby.

Those are all the things I can think of right now that are consistently true about you. Most other things change frequently. Oh, except that you like to eat. Eating is probably your favorite activity.

We went to the doctor yesterday so you could have a check-up and get the second round of immunizations. You were not happy about the doctor and let everyone know it. We put you on the baby scale and you yelled and squirmed for what seemed like a year. Then they measured your length and you yelled some more. And then they measured your head and you yelled some more. Then you got kind of quiet until your Dr checked you out and then you yelled some more. And THEN! You got two shots, immunizations against some very scary diseases, and I was positive that your head was going to fall off you were so mad. You were loud. L. O. U. D. So loud, in fact, that Ms. Jasmine (one of our friends) heard you all the way in the waiting room.

You are 25 inches long, you weight 14 pounds and your head is 17 inches around. Also, you are perfect. That’s what the doctor said!

Norah, I told someone the other day that being a mama is both the hardest and most amazing thing I have ever done. It’s hard when I put you down so I can brush my teeth and you get so angry that you claw your own face and make yourself bleed. It’s hard in a million other ways. But in the mornings when you wake up and I get you out of your bed, when you hold my arm and put your head on my chest, when I bring you back our bed and when we lay down and you eat while we all snuggle, I forget the hard. It seems like there could not be anything hard in our life together when I have your tiny hand in mine, your feet in my thighs and I can hear your daddy breathing next to us.

1 comment:

dawn said...

Dear Norah,
I agree with your doctor. You are perfect. I love that I get to watch you grow up. You are precious. Before we know it, you're going to be on your way to college. Please take your time. I want to see you crawl first. I love you!
Aunt Dawn