Baby B

Dear Sylvie (at 4 months)

October 10, 2009 at 12:13 am

Dearest Sylvie,

I’m so sorry that my letter to you is late. I have no good reason, except that I’ve been busy having fun with you. Which, I guess, is the very best excuse. However, I’m starting to push it with it being well over a week late. A week in your lifetime is substantial, seeing as you’ve only known 19 of them.

19 weeks since I first met you “on the outside.” It both does and doesn’t feel that long. In some ways, it’s like I’ve always known you. You’re such a real little person now, with your own ideas, mannerisms, and personality, that it’s surprising you’re not much older. Yet it truly feels like just the other day we were taking each other in for the first time from the warmth of the hospital bed: you with your old soul shining through despite your poor little pirate eye, and me with a look that undoubtedly conveyed a muddled mixture of exhaustion, awe, anticipation, and love. I really must write your birth story soon. It’s still surprisingly vivid in my mind, but it becomes less so with each passing day. I will try my best to get it written down this month.

At four months old, you have really become a lot of fun. Some of your latest “likes” include:

Saying good morning (and good afternoon) to the sunlight-dappled spider plant in the living room
Making “monster noises” in the back of your throat
Chewing on noses
Being anywhere but in the house
Playing in your exersaucer

And some of your dislikes:

Hearing mama sneeze
Waking up to find yourself strapped in the carseat
Having your nose wiped
Being put down for more than 5 minutes at a time

You continue to be “she who must be perpetually carried,” and your favorite vantage point is facing forward in the Bjorn. The carrier I thought I’d like the least is the only one you’ll tolerate for any length of time. The myriad others sit collecting dust in your closet, particularly those that face you in toward me. You are all done with that, except as a naptime crib alternative. From your perch on my chest, you love to help me cook, clean, check my email…it’s all fascinating. You snuffle and flap your arms and watch my every move intently. But I need to be very careful now. All of a sudden, you have developed a precise grasp and you are grabbing at absolutely everything. Yesterday, you knocked a container of shredded cheese out of my hand, sending cheese chunks flying everywhere. And today you shot your hand up and grabbed my lips with frightening accuracy.

You now get very excited when daddy gets home. You perk up as you hear him come through the door and you greet him with fantastic smiles. You two have cuddle and play time while I get dinner ready and all is right with the world. Well, most nights, anyway. Occasionally, you “blow apart,” as daddy would say. On these nights, you’ve usually skipped your late afternoon nap and you are just DONE. During these nights, dinner gets scrapped, daddy time doesn’t exist, and we switch into survival mode, also known as Mission:get-this-baby-to-bed-as-fast-as-possible.

Aren’t babies supposed to nap? Apparently you missed that memo. I’m still trying to enforce the 2-hours-awake routine, and you clearly need a nap at that point, as is evidenced by your yawns and eye rubs, but, man, do you fight it. You’re just like your mama in that way. I can’t nap to save my life.

Your resisitance is probably due, in large part, to the fact that you cram most of your sleep into 12 hours a night, with one wake up to eat typically around the 9th or 10th hour (and sometimes not at all). Yeah, I said it. I feel like I can finally admit it without getting bludgeoned by sleep-deprived moms now that you’re 4 months old. You are an absolutely amazing little sleeper. And you moved into your crib as if nothing at all had changed. If anything, you slept better. Thank you, sweet girl. You also sleep nothing like a baby. I find it funny when I read about people who still swaddle babies at your age. You’re so comfortable with your limbs. Most of the time you sleep like you’re lounging on the beach with your hands behind your head. I really must get a picture. You sleep so well that I miss you intensely by the morning. I actually look forward to the days when you wake up on the early side to nurse and am disappointed on the days when I realize that our alarm has gone off and you’re still asleep. I love bringing you in bed with me for those wee morning hours. We snuggle right up with the cat, or sometimes you lie on my chest, and we doze back off for another hour or two until your coffee-time ritual with daddy.

Through your late-nap boycotts and your evening crying jags, you conveyed to us that our chosen 8 PM bedtime was still too late for your liking. So we have moved it, yet again, to somewhere between 7:00 and 7:30. You seem to like this much better. A friend told me that, when planning for a baby’s sleep schedule, one should keep her eye on the ultimate goal of 7-7. Meaning that, by the time a child is school-aged, she should ideally be sleeping straight through from 7 PM to 7 AM. OK. At 4 months old, we can check that off the list. What else do you plan to accomplish five years ahead of schedule?

Perhaps it will be your height. You are one tall little girl! You’ve even already outgrown a car seat! We had your 4 month checkup today, and while your head circumference and weight only hover around the 30th percentile, your height is in the 85th. If you keep this up, you’re going to have a supermodel body and a little peanut head. Because you are so long, you’re outgrowing stuff well before you’re due. Most baby clothes just get progressively cut wider and not necessarily longer, so you sometimes have to wear 6- and even 9-month clothing in order for it to fit right. Yet, you also still easily squeeze into your stretchy 0-3 month onesies because you don’t have a typical baby belly. You have probably a matter of days left in most of your cloth diapers. Many of them are supposed to fit babies up to 15 or even 18 pounds (and you’re only 13.5), but because of your length, they’re already weirdly low-rise on you. Like some kind of baby Britney Spears diapers. Ick. I guess it’s time to head to Diaper Lab and feed my new-found consumer addiction.

Somehow, despite all the hand-me-downs and yard sale acquisitions, you are determined to get me to spend a lot of money. Particularly at Isis Maternity. We recently took some trial baby yoga and Kindermusik classes there, and you laughed, squealed, snuffled, and shrieked your way through. You were having the time of your life and you were even cracking up the other moms and the instructors. Neither class was precisely my cup of tea, but I could not deny your contagious enthusiasm. Despite my best financial intentions, I have a feeling we will probably go back for more.

You may have noticed that I mentioned you were laughing in that last paragraph. Yup, that’s right, laughing up a storm. I was getting concerned that you were never going to laugh in my last Dear Sylvie letter. Well, pretty much the day after I published that, you started giggling at every little thing. You still expect us to work for it, but we can hardly consider it a chore with such an adorable reward.

We also love watching your physical development. You are quite a strong and flexible little girl! In the past couple of weeks you found your feet, and now you spend a good chunk of the day holding them or shoving them into your mouth. You can also push your feet under yourself while doing tummy time, so that you’re kneeling. The problem is that your arms are not yet as strong as your legs, so you wind up doing some strange wheelbarrow faceplant type move that just serves to frustrate you. Don’t worry, you’ll get there. You continue to love standing on your “chickens,” and you can now even rise into this position from flat on your back with only the most minimal support. Oh, and your stomach (internally) has gotten stronger, too. You are no longer vomiting (thank goodness!), and I scarcely need to burp you anymore after you eat. It’s hard to believe, but you’ll be eating solids before we know it!

And, finally, you are developing your very own Sylvie language. You are literally babbling the day away. It’s mainly vowels, with a few consonants sprinkled throughout, and you express entire heartfelt paragraphs as your stare deeply into our eyes. You even sometimes continue talking deep in the back of your throat while you eat. You sure have a lot to say! You’re also seeming to understand more and more of what we say to you. The other day I was speaking gibberish to you and you looked at me like I was crazy. I’m guessing this means you have now isolated the sound and cadence of the English language and you knew I was trying to pull a fast one. Now that you’re a master of English, I guess we better get cracking with the foreign languages. Perhaps Spanish, so you and Noah can have a secret understanding at playgroups? Or maybe you’d prefer Polish, so you can show off for Uncle Andrew? Or maybe French, so you and Biba can translate recipes together? So many choices!

But I guess there’s time. Although it is shocking, as usual, that another month has flown by, for once I see the future stretching out before you more readily than I do the past. I love who you are and who you are becoming, and I am eager for each new shared experience. Happy four months, little friend. It is indeed a magical time.

I love you,

Mama

By phillygil | Posted in Dear Sylvie