Saturday, March 6, 2010

Week Seven (Recap)

So Tatum, since you will—probably, unless you develop into a sensitive kid with a heightened affection for cleanliness and beauty!—someday have a keen appreciation for the dirty, the smelly and the gross, I thought I’d share with you the various ways in which I’ve been surprised by your ability to manifest these traits at such an early age. For one, we’ve had a few blowouts this week! I’ve heard of the fabled blowout, a diaper of such epic proportions that the good stuff contained therein ekes its way out and up the front or back of the unfortunate wearer. You’ve had two in the past two days—poor guy! Not that it seems to bother you much. In fact, you’re usually quite calm and pleased with yourself after a poop, regardless of whether or not you’re wearing it in areas you shouldn’t be!

(Boxing, as usual!)

Fortunately I’m making my way through the final stock of disposable diapers we have on hand before we begin our experimentations in cloth diapering, for which I’m really excited! I’ve been feeling pretty miserable about the number of disposable diapers we were sending to the landfill on your behalf, so last week I ordered a sampler from Jillian’s Drawers and this weekend I’m washing our various options (Fuzzibuns, BumGenious, standard Chinese and Indian prefolds, etc.) and give them a trial run. I’m hopeful that with so many fun diapers to try, we’re going to find one that fits you just right and that we’re confident we can use happily for the rest of your diapering days (and on into diapering our next child, if we’re lucky!).

In addition to the blowouts, your burps are impressively massive and man-sized. And you can really stink up a room with your gas! Plus, I’ve been amazed to discover that babies actually DO get dirty. During our last bath I noticed little balls of dirt between some of your fingers and toes! Where does it come from? Nobody knows. (Channeling a little Dr. Seuss there with the rhyme, forgive me.)

You’re a champion spitter-upper, and have managed twice in the past week to bull’s eye your regurgitation down Mommy’s cleavage. Whose fault is that, though, one might ask? Wouldn’t a person learn after the FIRST instance that putting a burp cloth on her shoulder doesn’t prevent her baby from turning his head and spitting up down her shirt?! Ahem.

HOWEVER, the ways in which you are sweet and lovely far outweigh any ability you have to be stinky, dirty or relatively gross (honestly, I can’t say that I find anything about you truly gross—even your blowout diapers!  I actually kind of love your burps and toots...does that make me odd?!). Your eyelashes continue to bewitch me with their length. And they actually curl up at the ends as though someone has taken an eyelash curler to them! Oh, the envy. Your mouth is heavenly with its little pout, and you’re interacting more and more with us each day.

Here's my iPhone attempt at capturing your eyelashes in a photo:

You reach out and rub your hands on Daddy’s stubble when he’s lying on the floor with you. You make constant eye contact, and while I can’t say that you’ve truly smiled at us just yet, it seems as though you’re very close.

Sleep smile—one of these days I'm going to see the real deal!

You squeal with pleasure and goo and coo and make all kinds of sweet and wonderful noises. At least a few times you’ve seemed VERY close to rolling over from your back to your tummy, a much trickier maneuver than from tummy to back. Physical activity gets you very excited, and your pleasure at mastering something new is very obvious.

Here’s your seven-week photo, my ever-bigger and more glorious boy:

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