Musings by the Mrs.: One Month

Dear Sawyer,

You are one month old now. I'm amazed at how fast and slow the past four weeks have gone. I know that sounds crazy, but the first week home seems like a lifetime ago and yesterday all at the same time. You are changing so much every day. You weigh 8 pounds 8 ounces, and you are now 21 inches long.

You love your hands. In fact, you hate to be swaddled because you love having your hands at your face. When I'm feeding you, I have to move those stubborn hands out of the way - sometimes you try to suck the bottle and your hand at the same time.

Those hands.

You got caught sucking your thumb.

You love to lay on your changing pad. You look up at the shelf above it and stare like it's the best thing you've ever seen. And as long as we lay you there and don't try to change you, you're fine.

You prefer not to take baths. I hope that changes one day. I try to sing to you while I wash, but you're really not having any of it. You especially hate when it's time to get out of the bath. I must be the meanest mommy in the whole world since I still insist on bathing you nightly and rubbing lavender lotion all over your little body. It makes you smell delicious.

Your personality is already starting to shine through, and your Daddy and I can tell you are going to be a stubborn little thing. You already know what you want, and what you don't want, and you are sure to let us know very quickly. I love when you purse your lips together and refuse to take your pacifier, or how you spit your bottle out when you finished.

Your signature look.

That gas is funny stuff.

You have a wonderful set of lungs that you love to exercise daily. That's a nice way of saying that you cry...a lot. Your Dad and I have come up with many different ways to try and soothe you, but, secretly, I love when I scoop you up and you ~~immediately~~ stop crying. When you do finally fall asleep, I love the way you smack your lips through your dreams.

Daddy's getting the hang of this.

Crying or not, I can't stop staring at you. I'm amused by the way your wrinkle your forehead when you're trying to figure something out. I'm pretty certain you have the most handsome face I've ever seen...even when it's red with anger.