Every month I think, “This is really the best. This is the best age, he’s doing all the best stuff, look at him. This is great.” And then he gets older, and I think, “No, NOW this is the best. This is the best age, he’s doing all the best stuff, look at him. This is great!” I am sensing a theme. Honestly? Having a kid is the best. Whatever he does. I say this, of course, as someone who chose this baby, with all the resources and community support I needed to make an educated, free decision about what I wanted to do. This is not to say that having a baby is the best For Everyone. But for me? Damn. Having a kid is fucking awesome. Best decision I ever made.
While a lot of places had shit weather in April, we live in the Bay Area where it’s gorgeous pretty much year-round. So Atticus continued his weekend picnic parties, gazing at the sky and thinking deep thoughts.
We started our own little evening walk tradition. The Lumberjack has class Tuesday and Thursday nights, so when I get home I take Atticus out on a walk. I show him flowers, let him smell things, and we end up at the swings. In April he was big enough to sit comfortably in the swing, and understand what was happening. He’s a fan.
He became quite proficient at rolling over, and started rolling over all over the place. It was always interesting to see where he would end up during a nap.
He rolled over (or under?) our pillow buttresses, so…he now sleeps in a crib.
He doesn’t seem too scarred by it. It’s right next to the bed, so I can still hear his little baby snores. He naps in there, and we put him down at night in there, but most nights he ends up back in the bed with us by morning. Sometimes I wake up and he’s right there under my armpit, and I swear I don’t remember taking him out of the crib. How does it do it?!
He still wakes every 3 hours or so to eat, but I’m so used to it at this point that I barely notice. I can’t even remember what it feels like to sleep until it’s time to wake up. We are VERY lucky with this baby – he goes down without much of a fuss (any fuss lasts 15 minutes tops, and is always soothed by Baby Crack aka singing Baby Beluga), and when he wakes at night it’s just to eat and then pass out again. He’s all business. So, while it would be nice to have longer chunks of sleep, I also know that it could be WAY worse. I’ll stick with what I’ve got.
We kept trying solids, but in April he really just wasn’t into them. He loved to watch me pantomime how to eat (“mmm! yum yum yum yum!”), but he just let everything fall right back out of his mouth. [Spoiler Alert: in May he gets with the program.]
He’s still huge, and is officially too heavy to wear. Wearing him on my front for more than a quick errand gives me back pain, but wearing him on my back seems to make him annoyed. I would probably be annoyed too, if my face was pressed into someone’s shoulder blades and I couldn’t see shit. So, we’re officially a stroller family. I was all self-conscious at first, given all the Anti-Stroller propaganda. But I luckily stopped giving a fuck. He LOVES being in the stroller – he can see things up close, can wiggle/move as needed, and has toys to play with while he hangs out. I love the stroller, since I can bring extra stuff with us – carrying both the baby and the groceries/picnic stuff/toys/etc was pretty difficult. So, yay stroller.
But I will always love wearing him when possible.