How are you so big already?
You started off solidly in the middle percentages for weight but you’ve skyrocketed up the charts the last few weeks, gaining over two pounds in two and a half weeks between appointments. You’re now somewhere around the 85th percentile for weight and 95th for height, which means that your little toes are already stretching to the very ends of your size three-month pjs. We’ve had to retire a few pairs already and will probably say goodbye to the rest over the next week or so and unpack all of the six-month pjs.
Your head control is amazing and you’re not nearly as bobble-headed as you were even a week or two ago. I think this is probably because of all the time you spend being worn during the day. You love being worn, thankfully, and you spend quite a bit of time dozing in the wrap while I do dishes, fold laundry, or build block towers with Natalie.
Speaking of dozing, let’s talk about the fact that you slept for SIX HOURS STRAIGHT last night. I didn’t even believe it until I looked at the sleep timer on my phone; without that proof I’d probably just think I’d gotten up and fed you in my sleep. But no, you were definitely asleep from 10 p.m. until 4 a.m. Which qualifies as sleeping through the night. Actually, did you know that technically, five hours is all that’s required to officially count as sleeping through the night? I’m not sure in whose universe five hours is a full night of rest, but whatever. That’s neither here nor there, since you slept for six hours, nursed, and then went back to sleep for another four.
Obviously this is a very exciting development, but I do find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop. I think about sleep regressions that typically happen around three or four months, and others that happen after that, and wonder what that might look like for you. That’s getting way ahead of ourselves, obviously, but I can’t help it — we’ve never really had to deal with sleep regressions before, since your sister’s sleeping habits were so terrible for so long. Regression? How can you regress when you’re already waking up 4-5 times a night?
Anyway, let’s not borrow trouble. For now, your sleep is fantastic and we’re just going to take it one night at a time, since who knows what tomorrow will bring. I’m incredibly grateful for the sleep we’re getting, since it definitely makes me a better parent to both you and your sister.
I confess that I’m having a harder time writing these letters than I did with Natalie. It’s not that I have nothing to say (HA! As if your mother would ever be truly out of words); it’s more that I feel like I’m repeating the same things over and over: You’re good! I’m good! We’re all good! I think partially this is because my perspective on this newborn phase has zoomed way out to cruising altitude rather than hovering so close to the ground that I get tangled in the weeds. If you have a bad day, it doesn’t ruin mine. I know that things will get better and this, too, shall pass. I look at your sister and I can barely remember what it was like when she was your size, and it’s only been two years. In hindsight, these early, labor-intensive days fly by.
I hope I’m not coming across as some sort of zen-master mom, because that’s so not the case. I get frazzled and stressed out and impatient and sad just like everyone else. I just feel like I’m handling your newborn days a lot better than I did with your sister and everyone is reaping the benefits.
Just please please please keep sleeping, ok?