Seventeen weeks.

Good lord! You are keeping us guessing what with huge growth spurts, poop everywhere, napless days, and crazy good hand eye coordination. Our days are full and satisfying and the balance feels good. A rhythm of busy to slow, punctuated by frequent meals and days spent outside working on the vegetable garden or walking with the dog. You seemed to tolerate your first shower this week and didn't mind when the water got in your eyes. You are fascinated by animals and baby Vincent, reaching out for a handful of fur and a baby foot. You are working on outgrowing your car seat and tend to scream a little when we strap you in... although you just smiled at me today, probably because I was singing "we're going out! and we're not gonna pout!" Parenthood is more and more a never ending song and dance routine.

You get put to bed now at 8:00 before we eat dinner, your Pop lays you on the bed and reads you a story as you drift off to sleep, fingers safely in your mouth. Some days you are sweet as can be, babbling and content. Other days, like today, you refuse to be put down, screeching and flailing and staying awake until late in the afternoon. Your gums itch and we give you a rotating cast of characters to help soothe them, and in turn, yourself. They run the gamut from chilly nubby teething rings, soft textured cloths, cold peeled carrot sticks, Sophie the giraffe, your parents' fingers... we'll try anything once. 

I celebrated my twenty-fifth birthday this week. Last year you were still a ball of madly multiplying cells. Now you are almost fourth months old and happily so strong. We love helping you stand on our laps, pulling you up when your knees give out. Being your mama at this age feels just right. I find it very simple lately to appreciate each day for exactly what it is... I don't find myself dwelling too much on the future or the past, at least not as much as I used to. Part of this is the time in a day. I would rather be in the moment with a chubby baby or otherwise reading, watching a movie, cooking. It all falls into place and we all feel productive at the end of the day, even if the laundry is still in the dryer and there are stacks of books and piles of stuff to sell on eBay taking over the dining room table. 

We all still sleep well and you eat at least twice, once at midnight and again around 4:00. You are keeping up with the stay dry through the night trend and use the potty first thing. You have, however, become quite the acrobatic sleeper, often turning sideways and effectively leaving each of your parents with less room than a twin sized bed. In the morning, after your pop leaves for work, I move to his side of the bed and sleep for another thirty minutes or so before we start our day with breakfast and conversation. Lately I put you in the bed for your naps and sometimes you nurse on the bed too. I realized that you are so easily distracted that you will fight sleep and eating in order to watch the dogs wrestle or to play. You roll yourself over to get more comfortable and contort yourself into exaggerated positions mid nap. Sometimes I get a fleeting glimpse of babyness when you fall asleep on my chest.

You love the mirror and making faces at the baby in it. We put you in the yard on a blanket with no clothes on and you think it's the greatest thing ever. You roll around and your pop found a clover in your mouth. Sometimes I sit you up above the dishwasher and hand you a spoon to play with while I cook. You like watching the clothes go from the washer to the dryer and stare with very wide eyes as we do laundry together. You were an absolute angel at your Grandpapa's when he watched you while we went out on a birthday date... you were given a bottle for the second time ever and you held it yourself, snatching it right out of Pop's grip. You keep us endlessly amused, exhausted, guessing, sighing, swaying, slightly damp, and waist deep in laundry but we wouldn't have it any other way.