It’s hard to believe that Avery will be seven weeks old tomorrow. I feel like her personality has already started to show itself. Is it too early for that? She’s just so mellow. I think she’s what people would call “a good baby.” She really only cries if she’s hungry or has a tummy ache. If she’s tired, she just falls asleep.
And you know what? I deserve this! Maysen has been a little wildcat since the day she was born, so it’s a relief to have this baby that is so mellow. The only thing that makes her freak out and be just slightly on this side of perfect is that she ALWAYS wants to be held. She’ll fall asleep in my arms, then five seconds (or maybe five minutes) after I lay her down to give myself a break she wakes up and fusses until I pick her up again. It’s like that at night, too, so what will happen is I’ll nurse her, she’ll fall asleep, then I’ll lay her down in the pack-n-play. If I’m lucky, she’ll sleep through until the first feeding, which is generally about two hours later. If it’s a typical night, she’ll insist on crawling into bed with me. A request that I secretly enjoy quite a bit.
I wouldn’t say I’m a co-sleeper. Really, I didn’t even know that co-sleeping was even a real thing until we moved up to the Bay Area. In Temecula and San Diego, at least with the other parents that I knew, and as far as I understood, sleeping with an infant was frowned upon. “What if you smother your own baby?!?” Here it’s more like NOT co-sleeping is frowned upon. Even our doctor said that if the baby falls asleep in my arms she should stay in my arms. Hubby’s not comfortable with it so he sleeps in the other room while Avery’s in our bed, but when he’s not there, I have all of the room in the world (or, rather, a queen bed) to sleep however I want. Somehow I always know where Avery is, and I never feel like she’s in any kind of danger. I always make sure that the blankets are away from her and that I can hear her breathing. I did, however, wake up a few days ago to her sucking on my elbow. Not a whole lot of milk there, I suspect.
On a different note, Baba used some of his coin money to pay for Maysen to go to a new class through the rec center. So now, two days a week, for two hours, I actually get to drop Maysen off to go to “school” if I can get it together and get her there by 9:15 am (!!!). This not only helps her with potty training (which is almost mastered by the way), and with helping her learn to play better with others (sharing!), and with stranger anxiety (um, no, she’s never had that, but whatevs). It also affords me about an hour and a half when all is said and done with delicious, toddler-free, quiet, well-deserved me time. Well, Avery and me time, but Avery, as I said before, is a little peach who causes no problems…yet. Hence, the chance to post to the blog. (And suddenly, when I actually have the time, I don’t really know what to write about. Irony.)
After the first day of school I asked Maysen what she had done in class. You know what she said?
“I caused a lot of trouble.”
“When I knew you were gone I cried a lot. Not a whole lot, just a little bit.”
“Well, did you have fun at least?”
“Just a little bit. Not a lot.”
“Well do you want to go back to school again?”
“Yes, Please!” The emphasis on the “please” is so hard to capture in writing, but she said it in such a way that if I had told her she wasn’t going to get to go back to school it would have broken her heart.
Now, if I can figure out how to upload photos from my phone, I’ll post some here. If not, I’ll have to post them later.
I do have to mention that I have a broken heart about one thing. Ever since about half way through my pregnancy with Maysen I have kept a journal for her. I’ve started the same thing for Avery. In it I wrote letters to her expressing all of my thoughts and feelings during the pregnancy. I wrote about what was happening with her development, and how excited I was to meet her. Daddy and all of the grandparents wrote her their own letters about how excited they were to meet her. All of this before we knew her name, and before we even knew that she was a girl. After she was born I wrote about everything. Every milestone – first tooth, first sit-up, first roll-over, first rice cereal – I mean, I wrote about everything. Part of it was just an attempt to remember all of these things, but mostly the point was that some day when Maysen is an adult, or when she suddenly hates me for whatever reason, or god forbid, after I’ve died in some sort of accident or from some disease, she would have a record of everything. She would be able to read about how much she was loved, and about what she was like as a baby, and a young child, and a young lady. Who wouldn’t want to read that kind of thing once they’ve become a self-reflective human being?
Well, the tragedy of this beautiful journal is that I think I’ve lost it. I’ve been in denial about it for about six months, but I’m finally starting to admit to myself that I don’t think it made the move. How this could be possible baffles me, but I’ve been looking everywhere for the thing and it really seems to be gone. I’m SO sad.