knits & plants: Letters to Liam

Dear Beanster,

You turned two months old today. Congratulations! You are an exceptionally cute two months, although in size, you are closer to three months. Already, I have begun to put away clothes that you have outgrown. I find this hard to accept, which means I'll be a regular basket case by the time you're needing new shoes every two months.

In the past four weeks, it has become apparent that you will not keep your blue eyes. They've not settled on a color yet, but they're mesmerizing. They change all the time. You've also learned to smile, and you love love love to smile. As your mom, I'm blessed to be on the receiving end of most of these smiles. Even when you wake up crying in the middle of the night, when I come to get you, you immediately stop and smile up at me. You smile at the dog, and your dad a lot too.

I can't figure out if you're going to suck your thumb. Presently, you are trying to stuff your entire fist, or both fists, in your mouth and suck at them loudly. But you refuse to learn how to use a pacifier. I am mystified by this.

This month, Carmelita and I took you on your first shopping expedition. We drove two hours to the nearest Target, in Concord, NH. You did fantastic. You were totally enthralled by the bug toy I hung over your carrier and it kept you quiet and happy all the way through the women's clothes department. C and I learned a few valuable lessons. One is that there is no such thing as a marathon shop with an infant. Another is that having a baby present is great for the finances. I spent waaaaay less than usual. I tried to breastfeed you in a restaurant, which was a complete disaster. You screamed under the apron/coverall thingee I bought. Turned out you were just so tired, all you needed was a nap on my shoulder. Bebe.

Your affection for me has been (temporarily) suspended by your discovery of the crib mobile. I bear you no grudge. It's a very cute mobile. I only wish I was technologically savvy enough to rig it to play longer than 2 minutes. Your follow the creatures, you coo, and you pedal your feet furiously to nowhere.

I have great hopes for your future as a water baby, given your delight at baths. You're totally entertained and content. Much more so than last month when giving you a bath generally resulted in you pooping in the water. We're going to the beach for a week in August, and I can't wait to show you all about waves and the deep end of the pool.

The big news this month is that we went back to work this week. I have been very nervous about this. But, if you can judge from the first three days, I believe we're going to make it work. I have an office with (blessedly) a door I can shut when you whinge and where we can nurse in peace. You seem relatively accepting of our mini-schedule where you will go to sleep in your swing for the majority of the day.

That combined with an excellent bouncy seat and a sling makes the day fly by, with a minimum of fuss from you. I had joked (half in earnest) that I wished you were developed enough to listen to reason. Because I want this to work, and so should you. Because if not, I have to give you up to a stranger's care for nine hours a day. That seems immense to me right now. It will be great when you're a little older, and you need the stimulation. But for right now, I really need to be with you all day long. So PLEASE continue to be a good work baby.

You were born with a spinal birth defect that needs to be corrected, a dermal sinus tract that is tethering your spinal cord. We met with the pediatric neurologist this month who assures us that once you have the surgery next month, you will never even know you had a problem. It presents with no symptoms right now, but I'm still nervous. You're strong and you are vibrant, so I have no reason to think you won't bounce right back from this, but I'm your Mama, and worrying is something I've become very good at. We have to stay at the hospital again for about 4 days. Thankfully, I'm sure my coping skills have dramatically improved since you were born and I was so exhausted. We're going to be just fine. You can even nurse! So I'll try to relax. You, however, are totally relaxed, so just keep it up.