Week Eight

You’re two months old, my big beautiful boy! Fourteen pounds this morning—wow. Your neck is so strong, you spend much of your days riding around with mom in the Baby Bjorn while she goes about her day. We do laundry together, vacuum, make countless trips up and down the stairs, prepare salads and sandwiches, tidy up, make beds, let the dogs in and out, and so on. You love being in motion and often fall asleep as I’m bustling (lurching?) about. When you’re not sleeping, you hold your head up high and turn it this way and that to take in everything as it goes by.

Here’s the delectable view I have when you’re riding about in the Bjorn carrier:

You spent several hours with Gramps and CeCe the other night so that mommy and daddy could go to dinner together. What a treat for everyone involved! We got home to a very content Tatum being carried around by his Gramps in Gramps’ famous sideways airplane hold. Your tummy looked quite round and full, and CeCe pointed to an absolutely empty-to-the-last-drop bottle on the table and said that you’d downed 4 ounces of breast milk while we were gone. You’d eaten right before we dropped you off, so I was a little surprised! But not entirely, you’re still a VERY good eater, and quite robust in your efforts…as evidenced by your weight at 8 weeks old! You don’t appear overly chunky at all though, because you’re also VERY long. Much of your 3-month clothing is getting too small, only because you’re too long for it. The shirts seem too short and your belly pokes out between shirts and pants, or in one-piece outfits we’ll slip your feet into the footies only to find that the top won’t pull all the way up to your shoulders. On to the three- to six-month clothes we go!

You went to church with us for the first time this week. All of the little gray-haired ladies swarmed us after the service, exclaiming over how sweet and good you were (you were quiet as can be, only making your voice heard at the very end of communion!). Several called you the Gerber Baby. I can see where they would get that, your cheeks are so round and pink and you exude a glow of health and contentment.

That Gerber Baby smile is still elusive, but guess what?! It’s popped out a few times over the past two days. I find that if I gently tickle your cheeks and chin, every now and then you’ll allow a little grin. You remain a very serious little guy over all, but your range of facial expressions is such fun to see.

Some of your expressions are straight out of the Sopranos. This one cracks me up!

“Hey, you. You’re gonna give me the milk. ALL the milk. And that’s the way it’s gonna be. Capice?”

Despite the Soprano-esque expressions, there’s no Italian in your blood, little bambino. No Irish either, although when we were out walking the other day a friend’s mom stopped and exclaimed over your cute button nose, saying, “His nose is Irish!” (Need I say that this family is a very Irish family?!) But no, despite the cuteness of your apparently Irish button nose, there’s no Irish family waiting to welcome you home at a pub overseas. You have French heritage (oui, petit monsieur, as evidenced by the adorable shirt you’re wearing in the photos today!). You have Hispanic blood (your dad is Hispanic on his mom’s side, not that he looks it or speaks a lick of Spanish!) and Jewish background on your mom’s side (Chooch and his parents). In other words, much like our pups, you’re a classic American mutt!

Your TWO MONTH photos:

Tony Soprano never had to pose with a stuffed monkey, you know what I'm sayin'? You can make me do it, but you can't make me smile!