I know I should have written by now...I know I should have regaled you all with tales of spit-up and sleep patterns and cutesy family pictures, but honestly? I just haven't wanted to.
It's a two-fold reason why I've stayed away. One - I've been wary of telling you all about Max. Max has a very distinctive personality and temperament right now, but his brother's entire demeanor changed when he was three weeks old, and I've been afraid that Max's will do the same. However, the more I think about it, the more I think Donovan's change in attitude was more a testament to my ability (or lack thereof) to handle an infant back then than it was his own volition.
And on the other hand, I've just been enjoying myself too damn much.
Max is a beautifully sweet baby. On the behavior side of things, he's an angel. He's not fussy - only grousing when he wants to be fed (ALMOST EVERY DAMN HOUR DURING THE DAYLIGHT HOURS). We hit a few roadblocks in the beginning with breastfeeding; it seemed like every other feeding he was refusing to latch. As a result, he lost an ounce between coming home and being weighed by the home visit nurse. I supplemented with a bottle a few times and basically just sat there with his face mashed into my boob until he would latch, and he gained back 2 oz by the next day, so that was only a brief concern. Then we went to the pediatrician for his first checkup a week out of the hospital, and goddamn if she didn't realize that his collarbone was broken.
Did you hear that?
MY BABY HAS A BROKEN BONE. I ABOUT DIED OF WOE RIGHT THERE IN THE OFFICE. By then, it didn't seem to bother him, and she reassured me that it was actually really common, especially for big babies that come down the pike in an odd position. Apparently the force with which they descend onto the pelvis just regularly cracks clavicles and shit. Well, hell. THAT FUCKING SUCKS.
Anyway, that explained the fussy latching. For the first week or so, he was just uncomfortable in most cradled positions. Since then, he's been a champ.
He's very quiet and pensive looking. When he's awake and alert, he just sort of looks around and checks things out. He plays possum. When there's something unfamiliar or loud going on, he goes completely limp and closes his eyes, but then opens one eye to peek around every couple seconds. He has no use for the bouncy seat or the swing, instead preferring to relax on his Boppy pillow on the couch next to whoever is hanging out with him. He blesses us with little baby smiles that I'm sure wisened old folks will tell us are NOT real smiles, but yo, fuck those killjoys. They LOOK like real smiles, and we'll take them for whatever they are, cuz they are goddamn cute.
He looks EXACTLY like me and my old man, but did indeed inherit his father's lips, which, YAY. YAY FOR BIG GORGEOUS LIPS.
He poops literally once or twice an hour. Go on with your stinky self, dude.
And the part I'm the most hesitant to discuss? He sleeps, dudes. He sleeps WELL. He catnaps during the day, which I could give a shit less about, cuz honestly, I don't really ever want to put him down, but at night? We have a whole goddamn routine going. He eats around nine, and then sleeps till about 12am. He's back asleep by 12:30, until 4:30 at the earliest. Two nights ago he slept from 12:30 to almost 6am. After that last feeding, he's back asleep until around 7:30 or 8:30. We've got a solid week of this happening.
I've only made really small attempts at actually establishing a routine, and they're more things to get ME into good habits. I only swaddle him at night. We're co-sleeping, and we only sleep in the bedroom at night. If we nap together otherwise, we stay out in the living room. I keep lights on all day, and do nothing to limit noise, but once Donovan goes to bed at nine, it's lights out and semi-quiet time. Other than those things, which I only do to just kind of try to differentiate between night and day, he fell into our routine all on his own.
So we are a happy, well-rested family over here for the time being. Donovan is far less interested in the whole shebang than he was in the beginning. He likes to help with bathtime and occassionally will bestow a kiss on Mighty Max, but other than that, just goes about his regular business. He really likes talking about his diapers, though.
Nik is, I think, out of the honeymoon phase but is still pretty delighted to just hold his boy and talk nonsense to him.
And I'm still very much in the honeymoon phase, carrying the chunk around like a sack of really fucking cute potatoes, and trying to get poor quality camera phone pictures at every opportunity.
Thank you for your thoughts and your congratulations, we are appreciative, and we are indeed congratulating ourselves as well for birthing such mild-mannered, delicious chunk.
He's just beautiful! I wouldn't want to put him down, either. :)
Posted by: Hope | January 29, 2009 at 09:53 AM
Glad to get an update! He's really a cute little guy eh?
Poor thing with the collarbone!
Posted by: Kristin | January 29, 2009 at 04:32 PM