Goodness gracious. We are three months in to raising our two little men. We are happy, we are tired, some days are smooth, some days our nerves are frayed and raw by bed time. I was sitting beside the bath tub, while Oliver was splashing in the bubbles, one evening this week, thinking, "I have never been more exhausted in my life," and at the exact same moment, incredibly aware, that this is exactly the kind of hard that I want. I remember the days of aching to have babies, where I had only a vague understanding of sleep deprivation. I knew it would be hard, I knew I would be tired, I knew it might be lonely... but it was exactly the kind of hard I was anxious to have. I love being a mom. I don't love the tired. But I love the people.
Milo Chap is 3 months old. And this kid loves people. He lights up as soon as we talk to him. He has this shy little grin and buries his face in my shoulder when he is especially happy. He loves his bouncy seat and his swing, but nothing makes him happier than someone chatting with him. If he's having a hard moment, taking him outside typically cures whatever is bothering him.
He hasn't fallen into a set sleep schedule yet, and we feel comfortable with that. Most days he takes three naps, but they vary in length and seem to start at different times every day. He crashes for the night somewhere around 8pm. He's eating every three to four hours during the day and wakes once per night (around 2 am) to nurse. He's getting fairly reliable at falling back asleep without difficulty after waking to eat, but those nights that he doesn't are rough. I typically invite Matt to take over at 5 am, and he hasn't turned me down yet. Milo has gone 6 hours between feeds at night twice over the last month, and oh man, I wouldn't mind to see more of that.
This sweet boy is not great at the poops. We've started giving him bottles with 1oz prune juice mixed with breast milk weekly but the miracle of the prune juice has worn off. He doesn't seem uncomfortable, and sleeps and eats well, but will go close to two weeks without passing a stool. When we get close to two weeks, we start to get a little concerned and increase our fire power, which produces quick results.
Oliver is still frequently asking to "hold it" and you can literally see the big brother pride well up within him when he gets to hold "Mido." "Es ok Mido, your Ah-ver's got chu" is his mantra during brother snuggle sessions. He has a pretty tender heart towards his brother, and continues to be super gentle, without really any coaching from us. However, Milo did get a toddler foot to his face this month, during an especially fierce tantrum. The result of which was Oliver apologizing to Milo "Sowee for kicking your face, Mido" following time out, and Mommy apologizing to Oliver for yelling.
Oliver is getting more and more conversational. And he's full on boy. Nothing cracks him up more than a good poop joke. ("Go poopoo on timeouuuutttt? Nooo!!! Go poopoo on Myyyydo-o-o-o? Nooo!!! Go poopoo on Buzz and Woodyyyy? Nooo!!!") Buddy loves to sing, loves to pray ("Dear Dedus, Wuv you, Dedus. Fank you, Dedus. Amen. Less eat! Okay!!!") loves outside, and loves his red shoes. He's getting the concept of pretending and this afternoon had Buzz and Woody at his little table, eating play food. He's getting more and more competent at potty training, but basically hates using any other toilet than the one at our house, which complicates life. Thus, we keep a potty in the back of our car for emergencies. He loves having anyone over to our house and attempts to hold them hostage in his bedroom. (A note to all our visitors in the coming months: You are not his hostage. Please feel free to leave his room. Coping with frustration is part of life... and his life is no exception!)
Life in our house is funny and weird and messy and sweet and exhausting.
I am so tired. And I am so blessed.
This is exactly the hard that I want.