At 9 weeks
Apr. 13th, 2008 09:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aubreymDear Tai,
So I'm a bit earlier than before - but still a week late. I suppose it's a lot like much of my life lately. I start out getting ready to go somewhere with the best intentions... I begin preparing to leave with what I figure is plenty of time... then somehow, before I realize it, I'm running late. Getting both of us ready to go *always* seems to take longer than expected. I don't know if it's the last minute diaper changes, the diaper bag packing, or what - maybe I've just begun moving very slowly? Ah well. After all, this is how Tomcala Time (tm) started. When your Great-Aunt Chris had her first baby, she started running late to all family gatherings... her husband, Greg, would tease her and call it Tomcala Time - because everything happened slowly. It's only gotten worse.
Your Dad and I were walking with you through Crissy Field today. While you napped in the stroller, we chatted. Neither of us can believe it, but you are more like a real person every day. I only fall deeper in love with you. You love to smile to get our attention, and to get us to smile back. You coo and still try really hard to talk. When I tickle your round belly or the bottoms of your feet you grin and open your mouth wide and sometimes make a sound that is almost a laugh. Once in a while, though, it seems like you don't know what to do about what you feel when I tickle you. You rarely fuss - mostly when you're bored or you're tired of being in your carseat. You lodge your complaint, then usually fall asleep if we don't do something to entertain you. You only truly cry when you're hungry (and want boobie now, Now, NOW) or when you're so tired you don't know how to fall asleep. Sometimes the paci helps you, or Dad's finger.
You love to experience new things. When we go out to eat, you want to be sitting at the table with us, participating and not stuck off in your carseat. You've been to sushi, to Vietnamese, to Clement Street Bar and Grill, to Denny's - and at all of these restaurants you have sat at the table. You have begun checking out what all is there - silverware, chopsticks, food. Just this past week Grandma and I put a spoon in front of you and, after studying it quite intently for some time, you finally managed to reach out and touch it. You are gaining more control of those pesky hands, though sometimes they still tend to fly around and hit you in the head.
You've begun to sleep through the night, though I hesitate to even write those words, for fear of jinxing it. Your Dad and I have actually gotten 6 and 7 hours of sleep in a row. This makes us much more patient and understanding, let me tell you.
You've had your first bottles - two given by Grandma, the other by your Great-Aunt Chris. I had hoped to take you to your first concert this past week - Eddie Vedder was playing a small venue in Berkeley, but was talked out of it by other people who were much more concerned with your hearing than with getting to experience the greatness that is Eddie. So you were away from me for the longest time yet. You stayed with Grandma, Aunt Chris, Uncle Greg and Cousin David from 6:30 until around midnight. Other than getting hungry on the ride home, you were perfectly fine. You thought the bottle was a great way to get milk, until the first edge of your hunger was dulled and then you wondered where the boob was.
You still love to eat. Every couple of hours during the day - and if I forget, you are not shy to remind me. During the last week, you've stopped nursing a couple of times to smile at me. There is no sweeter smile.
Needless to say, you met some of your Michigan relatives, when Chris, Greg and David came to town and spent a week. You flirted with Aunt Chris right away, and studied David intently. Hopefully your older cousin won't get you into any trouble when you're bigger.
You went to Berkeley (and got some lovely tie-dyed onesies and a new tie-dyed hat), you went to the Haight (and got a punk hat with skull and crossbones), you went to Ocean Beach with Dad and me and put your feet in the water. It was too cold, even though the day was *hot*. You've been to wine country. You've been to Crissy Field. You've been all over the city. You've decided that you like riding in the Baby Bjorn facing out, so you can see the world.
Even though you're not much of a fan of being on your tummy (too frustrating!), you can lift your head, and even begin to push up your chest and look around. You like to listen to music boxes (especially the pig, and the cow).
You're really beginning to see the world, and I can't wait to introduce you to more of it. This is only the beginning!
Love,
Your Momma (who hears you crying upstairs with Daddy. Time for pre-sleep snack!)
So I'm a bit earlier than before - but still a week late. I suppose it's a lot like much of my life lately. I start out getting ready to go somewhere with the best intentions... I begin preparing to leave with what I figure is plenty of time... then somehow, before I realize it, I'm running late. Getting both of us ready to go *always* seems to take longer than expected. I don't know if it's the last minute diaper changes, the diaper bag packing, or what - maybe I've just begun moving very slowly? Ah well. After all, this is how Tomcala Time (tm) started. When your Great-Aunt Chris had her first baby, she started running late to all family gatherings... her husband, Greg, would tease her and call it Tomcala Time - because everything happened slowly. It's only gotten worse.
Your Dad and I were walking with you through Crissy Field today. While you napped in the stroller, we chatted. Neither of us can believe it, but you are more like a real person every day. I only fall deeper in love with you. You love to smile to get our attention, and to get us to smile back. You coo and still try really hard to talk. When I tickle your round belly or the bottoms of your feet you grin and open your mouth wide and sometimes make a sound that is almost a laugh. Once in a while, though, it seems like you don't know what to do about what you feel when I tickle you. You rarely fuss - mostly when you're bored or you're tired of being in your carseat. You lodge your complaint, then usually fall asleep if we don't do something to entertain you. You only truly cry when you're hungry (and want boobie now, Now, NOW) or when you're so tired you don't know how to fall asleep. Sometimes the paci helps you, or Dad's finger.
You love to experience new things. When we go out to eat, you want to be sitting at the table with us, participating and not stuck off in your carseat. You've been to sushi, to Vietnamese, to Clement Street Bar and Grill, to Denny's - and at all of these restaurants you have sat at the table. You have begun checking out what all is there - silverware, chopsticks, food. Just this past week Grandma and I put a spoon in front of you and, after studying it quite intently for some time, you finally managed to reach out and touch it. You are gaining more control of those pesky hands, though sometimes they still tend to fly around and hit you in the head.
You've begun to sleep through the night, though I hesitate to even write those words, for fear of jinxing it. Your Dad and I have actually gotten 6 and 7 hours of sleep in a row. This makes us much more patient and understanding, let me tell you.
You've had your first bottles - two given by Grandma, the other by your Great-Aunt Chris. I had hoped to take you to your first concert this past week - Eddie Vedder was playing a small venue in Berkeley, but was talked out of it by other people who were much more concerned with your hearing than with getting to experience the greatness that is Eddie. So you were away from me for the longest time yet. You stayed with Grandma, Aunt Chris, Uncle Greg and Cousin David from 6:30 until around midnight. Other than getting hungry on the ride home, you were perfectly fine. You thought the bottle was a great way to get milk, until the first edge of your hunger was dulled and then you wondered where the boob was.
You still love to eat. Every couple of hours during the day - and if I forget, you are not shy to remind me. During the last week, you've stopped nursing a couple of times to smile at me. There is no sweeter smile.
Needless to say, you met some of your Michigan relatives, when Chris, Greg and David came to town and spent a week. You flirted with Aunt Chris right away, and studied David intently. Hopefully your older cousin won't get you into any trouble when you're bigger.
You went to Berkeley (and got some lovely tie-dyed onesies and a new tie-dyed hat), you went to the Haight (and got a punk hat with skull and crossbones), you went to Ocean Beach with Dad and me and put your feet in the water. It was too cold, even though the day was *hot*. You've been to wine country. You've been to Crissy Field. You've been all over the city. You've decided that you like riding in the Baby Bjorn facing out, so you can see the world.
Even though you're not much of a fan of being on your tummy (too frustrating!), you can lift your head, and even begin to push up your chest and look around. You like to listen to music boxes (especially the pig, and the cow).
You're really beginning to see the world, and I can't wait to introduce you to more of it. This is only the beginning!
Love,
Your Momma (who hears you crying upstairs with Daddy. Time for pre-sleep snack!)
