Letter to Greta: 3 Months
Dear Littlest One,
You marked your three-month birthday by hitting an exciting milestone: you rolled over from tummy to back today! In just a couple of days, you went from screaming bloody murder during tummy time to doing strong, prolonged neck lifting and, today, to actually turning over. I hadn’t even been practicing with you; you were just ready. You found yourself in the right position and over you went. Then you did it four more times as Lucia and I cheered you on. What a wonderful end to the week. (And your sister was truly excited: she grinned and laughed each time you rolled over and were concerned when you seemed to hit your head on the floor.)
You continue to be a lovely, easy baby most of the time. You are still a champion sleeper: from 7 or 7:30pm till 7 or 7:30am, with just one night feeding—sometimes at 2, more often at 4:30. You aren’t the greatest napper, and the only time you take really good naps is when you’re in the Bjorn or in my arms—which is why it’s best when we can get out and about in the mornings. When I take Lucia to playgroup or the playground or music class, you can easily nap for two hours. You’re still taking three naps on ideal days—morning, noon, and late afternoon—though you still get exhausted in the evenings and cry hysterically until we put you to bed.
You are the best little nurser. And now you’ve started clutching my shirt in your tiny fist while you nurse, pulling it toward you, and I know it must give you such comfort. I also think you’re wise: you know that when you’re nursing you have my undivided attention (well, for the most part; I’m usually reading a book to Lucia or otherwise interacting with her, but at least you have my full attention physically)—a rare thing to get when you are a second child.
You wake up happy in the morning, looking up with bright open eyes and smiling when I lean down to pick you up. Your whole face lights up when you smile. I have yet to get a good picture—the days of simply standing over a baby with a camera, poised for the perfect shot, are nonexistent now—but I will get one. I had your passport pictures taken and you’re giving a tiny smile to the camera, so that’s something.
Your favorite book right now is White on Black by Tana Hoban—a board book of white silhouettes on black backgrounds. You love a page with four button silhouettes—when this page appears, you fixate on it intently, and you begin smiling and gurgling, almost giggling. Something about those buttons just tickles you. Even if you’re fussing, if I show you that page, your face lights up.
You are just so sweet, littlest one. Cuter every day. I know you’ll be just as feisty as your sister someday but for now you are just my little baby, there for the snuggling.
You marked your three-month birthday by hitting an exciting milestone: you rolled over from tummy to back today! In just a couple of days, you went from screaming bloody murder during tummy time to doing strong, prolonged neck lifting and, today, to actually turning over. I hadn’t even been practicing with you; you were just ready. You found yourself in the right position and over you went. Then you did it four more times as Lucia and I cheered you on. What a wonderful end to the week. (And your sister was truly excited: she grinned and laughed each time you rolled over and were concerned when you seemed to hit your head on the floor.)
You continue to be a lovely, easy baby most of the time. You are still a champion sleeper: from 7 or 7:30pm till 7 or 7:30am, with just one night feeding—sometimes at 2, more often at 4:30. You aren’t the greatest napper, and the only time you take really good naps is when you’re in the Bjorn or in my arms—which is why it’s best when we can get out and about in the mornings. When I take Lucia to playgroup or the playground or music class, you can easily nap for two hours. You’re still taking three naps on ideal days—morning, noon, and late afternoon—though you still get exhausted in the evenings and cry hysterically until we put you to bed.
You are the best little nurser. And now you’ve started clutching my shirt in your tiny fist while you nurse, pulling it toward you, and I know it must give you such comfort. I also think you’re wise: you know that when you’re nursing you have my undivided attention (well, for the most part; I’m usually reading a book to Lucia or otherwise interacting with her, but at least you have my full attention physically)—a rare thing to get when you are a second child.
You wake up happy in the morning, looking up with bright open eyes and smiling when I lean down to pick you up. Your whole face lights up when you smile. I have yet to get a good picture—the days of simply standing over a baby with a camera, poised for the perfect shot, are nonexistent now—but I will get one. I had your passport pictures taken and you’re giving a tiny smile to the camera, so that’s something.
Your favorite book right now is White on Black by Tana Hoban—a board book of white silhouettes on black backgrounds. You love a page with four button silhouettes—when this page appears, you fixate on it intently, and you begin smiling and gurgling, almost giggling. Something about those buttons just tickles you. Even if you’re fussing, if I show you that page, your face lights up.
You are just so sweet, littlest one. Cuter every day. I know you’ll be just as feisty as your sister someday but for now you are just my little baby, there for the snuggling.
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