Emmie: Four Months
Dear Emmie,
Today you turn four months old and you celebrated by going on your first roadtrip. Considering you hate your carseat with a white-hot passion most people reserve for things like 90s hair bands, it was a grand time. But you managed to somehow survive the five-hour drive to Michigan with a few stops for breastmilk, a jaunt in a state park and a visit with our friends in Indiana.
It was the first time our friends had seen you and they were exclaiming how tiny you are. Which is so funny to me because you are gigantic compared to how you started out. You are wearing 3-6 month clothes now and I can't wait to see how much you weigh at your appointment next week. I am really looking forward to those four-month shots, let me tell you. I am sure you are too.
One great side effect of the shots will be some much-needed sleep. You see, dear sweet Miss Emily, you are in the midst of the fabled four-month sleep regression and it is roundly kicking my ass. Your sleep has deteriorated from the blissful nights of the first six weeks to the point where your longest stretch is from 8-10:30 p.m. Then you're up looking for something to eat and sleeping next to us in bed. Then you decide that's not an option either, so we stick you in the swing next to the bed, where we can get a good four or five-hour stretch out of you. Of course, that comes from 6-10 a.m. and your brother wakes up at 7, so you can see why Mommy needs to invest in a better eye cream.
But all that nightwaking makes for a good milk supply. You're still digging the breastfeeding, although we have battled some thrush this last month. In order to treat it, we had to use a nifty little neon purple antispetic called gentian violet. It stains everything purple -- including your wee little mouth and tongue -- but I am hoping this second round of treatment has crushed the thrush. Because there's nothing like the feeling of glass being sucked through your nipple to make you want to continue with breastfeeding for another eight months.
Your relationship with your brother has pretty much remained the same this month. You adore him and can't keep your eyes off him. He likes to hit you and play with your toys. Although he is starting to enjoy giving you toys to hold and insists that you put them in your hand, even though you're not so hot with the grasping and holding part yet. He also really likes making you smile and has now started serenading you with various melodies he composes with the word "Emmie" in different keys. I think it's his way of showing you how much he loves you.
This month has resulted in the discovery of your hands. You have mastered the act of bringing them to your mouth and we can hear you sucking them three rooms away. You're just starting to realize you can use them for other things as well, like grabbing your legs in the hopes of corralling those elusive feet. Oh how those feet tempt you -- you can see them wiggling around but you have no idea how to get them into your possession yet.
You had your first weekend away from Mommy this month, when I went away to San Francisco for your aunt Marnie's bachelorette party. I went to drink from wine bottles and you stayed home to drink breastmilk bottles with Daddy. You and Daddy and Jack had a great weekend together, doing fun stuff like going to the zoo and the park and he even took your to your first baseball game. Perhaps I should do that more often.
But I was so happy to come home and see your little chicken-fuzz hair and your big, big smiles. Coming to get you after you have woken up in the morning is one the best parts of my day. You look around when you hear the door open and the moment you see my face, I see the recognition in your eyes and you give me a huge smile and you start kicking your legs and arching your back because you are so excited for me to pick you up. And when I do pick you up and smother you with kisses, you bury your face in my neck and start grabbing my shirt like you can't get yourself close enough to me.
Someday Emmie, you are going to want to get as far away from me as possible. Not only will you not want me smothering you in kisses, but you won't want me within 50 feet of you. You'll be embarassed by me and how I dress and the way I breathe will even annoy you. I want to tell you now that I understand. I don't take it personally. And yes, I am going to wear that when I drop you off at the dance and no, I won't drop you off three blocks away. But I will love you then like I love you now. Fiercely, completely and without reservation.
Before you know it, you will be crawling and then walking and running. All of those things will take you away from me and out on your own, but please know that I will always be here for you. I will always be watching and waiting for you, so look back when you need reassuring. Even from three blocks away on your way to your first dance -- don't worry, your friends won't have to know. It'll be our little secret.
Love,
Mommy
Today you turn four months old and you celebrated by going on your first roadtrip. Considering you hate your carseat with a white-hot passion most people reserve for things like 90s hair bands, it was a grand time. But you managed to somehow survive the five-hour drive to Michigan with a few stops for breastmilk, a jaunt in a state park and a visit with our friends in Indiana.
It was the first time our friends had seen you and they were exclaiming how tiny you are. Which is so funny to me because you are gigantic compared to how you started out. You are wearing 3-6 month clothes now and I can't wait to see how much you weigh at your appointment next week. I am really looking forward to those four-month shots, let me tell you. I am sure you are too.
One great side effect of the shots will be some much-needed sleep. You see, dear sweet Miss Emily, you are in the midst of the fabled four-month sleep regression and it is roundly kicking my ass. Your sleep has deteriorated from the blissful nights of the first six weeks to the point where your longest stretch is from 8-10:30 p.m. Then you're up looking for something to eat and sleeping next to us in bed. Then you decide that's not an option either, so we stick you in the swing next to the bed, where we can get a good four or five-hour stretch out of you. Of course, that comes from 6-10 a.m. and your brother wakes up at 7, so you can see why Mommy needs to invest in a better eye cream.
But all that nightwaking makes for a good milk supply. You're still digging the breastfeeding, although we have battled some thrush this last month. In order to treat it, we had to use a nifty little neon purple antispetic called gentian violet. It stains everything purple -- including your wee little mouth and tongue -- but I am hoping this second round of treatment has crushed the thrush. Because there's nothing like the feeling of glass being sucked through your nipple to make you want to continue with breastfeeding for another eight months.
Your relationship with your brother has pretty much remained the same this month. You adore him and can't keep your eyes off him. He likes to hit you and play with your toys. Although he is starting to enjoy giving you toys to hold and insists that you put them in your hand, even though you're not so hot with the grasping and holding part yet. He also really likes making you smile and has now started serenading you with various melodies he composes with the word "Emmie" in different keys. I think it's his way of showing you how much he loves you.
This month has resulted in the discovery of your hands. You have mastered the act of bringing them to your mouth and we can hear you sucking them three rooms away. You're just starting to realize you can use them for other things as well, like grabbing your legs in the hopes of corralling those elusive feet. Oh how those feet tempt you -- you can see them wiggling around but you have no idea how to get them into your possession yet.
You had your first weekend away from Mommy this month, when I went away to San Francisco for your aunt Marnie's bachelorette party. I went to drink from wine bottles and you stayed home to drink breastmilk bottles with Daddy. You and Daddy and Jack had a great weekend together, doing fun stuff like going to the zoo and the park and he even took your to your first baseball game. Perhaps I should do that more often.
But I was so happy to come home and see your little chicken-fuzz hair and your big, big smiles. Coming to get you after you have woken up in the morning is one the best parts of my day. You look around when you hear the door open and the moment you see my face, I see the recognition in your eyes and you give me a huge smile and you start kicking your legs and arching your back because you are so excited for me to pick you up. And when I do pick you up and smother you with kisses, you bury your face in my neck and start grabbing my shirt like you can't get yourself close enough to me.
Someday Emmie, you are going to want to get as far away from me as possible. Not only will you not want me smothering you in kisses, but you won't want me within 50 feet of you. You'll be embarassed by me and how I dress and the way I breathe will even annoy you. I want to tell you now that I understand. I don't take it personally. And yes, I am going to wear that when I drop you off at the dance and no, I won't drop you off three blocks away. But I will love you then like I love you now. Fiercely, completely and without reservation.
Before you know it, you will be crawling and then walking and running. All of those things will take you away from me and out on your own, but please know that I will always be here for you. I will always be watching and waiting for you, so look back when you need reassuring. Even from three blocks away on your way to your first dance -- don't worry, your friends won't have to know. It'll be our little secret.
Love,
Mommy
posted by Amy at
11:42 PM
4 Comments:
Happy 4th month, sweet little girl! She is too adorable!
She is so very cute.
Such a dolly, and your post was sweet too. Lucky gal!
she is so cute....loved your post as it made me think of how quickly they change but how our love for them never does.
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