Hi Bean!
Two months have gone by now since you graced us with your presence. Lately, you and I look like this:
That picture will be the first example of you knocking a guy off his feet. Because if it's at all possible, you've gotten cuter over the last month. Your hair isn't exactly cooperating, but your eyelashes are almost long enough to braid, and you're now opening your eyes and even smiling with great regularity. Of course, who could resist a face like this?
The smiles are what have really made the last month for us. I think you recognize your own name, even, as long as we say it right (in a high-pitched voice, repeated multiple times). You also smile at the mobile above your bed, most of the toys we hold in front of your face, even your light switch:
You've also started taking a bottle, for which Mommy and Mommy's boobs are eternally grateful. And what's even better, you don't care who gives it to you - Mommy, Daddy and Gram have fed you so far. We've also started giving you formula on occasion - the first time we popped open the can, it was like the thing contained the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, such was the rejoicing and heavenly chorus that ensued when we realized how easy it was to drop three scoops of powder into six ounces of water. So even though the stuff may be priced like it's made of ground-up centaur horn, you're enjoying it, growing, and taking it from anyone who will give it to you.
You did, however, fail to acknowledge the deliciousness that is a double-chocolate Milano:
We're willing to overlook that in light of the revelation that our traveling genes have passed along to you. When we took the 300-mile trip to New Jersey at the beginning of the month, we made a point of waking you up at the midway point to ensure you didn't suddenly become hungry in the middle of the Tappan Zee Bridge (not too many pulloffs on the bridge, you realize). But I have the feeling that if we hadn't rousted you from your sleep to feed in southern Connecticut, you may well have slept the whole darn way to the Garden State. So combine Daddy's traveling genes with Mommy's sleeping genes, and you get a very pleasant car ride. Even if we were a little alarmed at just how far your head could droop forward - I'd swear you were trying to bite your own toenails. Once you got to Jersey, the sleeping continued - crouching Carly, hidden diaper:
For the most part, though, this month has been about you being awake, responsive and more expressive than ever. Two more pictures for posterity - first, Mommy's favorite picture of the two of us:
And finally, a family portrait - all of us playing in the gym together!
Now to enjoy your last month at home with Mommy before the next adventure begins - day care! Thank you for being such a wonderful baby these two months. We're pinching ourselves every day: sleeping through the night at six weeks, no diaper rash, no colic, no allergies, very little crying. There isn't enough wood in this apartment to knock on, Beanie. Time to go outside and start pounding on every tree in the neighborhood.
Love,
Daddy
