Oh Calvin,
I'm sorry you've officially been diagnosed with Third Child Syndrome. I started this post the day you turned three months and am finally finishing it just as you are about to turn 5 months. Please know that this doesn't mean I love you any less than your sisters. In fact, I probably cherish your baby-ness the most just because you're my last hurrah. So apologies in advance if you turn out to be a spoiled brat. My bad. Give your therapist my regards.
In all seriousness, here's a peek at what you were like from 3-5 months.
You giggle! (Mom's bug eyes, potty humor, neck nuzzles and Dad's arsenal of weird noises all do the trick.)
You roll, when you feel like it. In order to officially check this off the list, we laid you on your tummy on a slight hill and very carefully watched as gravity worked it's magic. Because I'm your mom, I get to call that rolling over.
You drink. At 3 months, you took 4 ounces, at 4 months you took 5 ounces and we are getting ready to move you up to 6 ounce bottles here soon.
You were in a co-dependent relationship with your swaddle. You cried in your room for a few days after the breakup, but seem to be moving on now.
You think you're 4'11. This is because you love nothing more than riding in the Bjorn with dad.
You pull hair. Not sure if you're jealous of your sisters or just practicing your defense mechanisms for later in life.
You pee in the tub. Every. single. time.
You drool. A lot. And I think it's adorable.
You have blue eyes, and I think they are going to stay that way. It's the first thing everyone notices about you and compliments. Your reaction is a constant state of surprise.
You travel. We don't have the luxury of sitting at home and doting over your every breath, so you've been to football games, soccer games, baseball games, volleyball games, two plays, and a dance recital.
You nurse. Every three hours during the day. It's our time and I love it. (Calm down, Rob. It's just a boob and nothing a swimsuit wouldn't reveal! Also you're the only male other than my dad who reads this blog!)
You cry. Real tears. This is obvious since you are an infant, but just didn't want you to think you were perfect.
You (THANK GOD) take a pacifier. We keep approximately 14 on hand and manage to lose them all occasionally. We go buy more and then find at least three on the way home from the store.
You (despite early predictions) have not gotten kicked out of daycare. You did however receive a few "cried excessively" grades. But you're learning to love it there since they take such good care of you.
You make a beautiful woman...on Snapchat. Sorry.
You "Run the Show" around here. Don't make that "Who, Me?" face!
You literally have no idea what we're saying.
You are a mama's boy.
And a daddy's dude.
And a chatterbox!
You are no match for the stroller. Gets you every time.
You take after your older brother.
And last but not least, you are loved beyond measure! Never forget it!
