I realise it’s been a while between drinks around here, but I’ve been a bit broken and just not able to post. Apparently my progesterone has taken a beating after having Charlie and it was never firing on all cylinders at the best of times. Hopefully getting back on top of things now though, thanks to a great GP, some heavy-duty hormones and twice-daily iron that has its own fun side effects. No matter – I’m pretty much ready to pop any pill that’ll make me feel better!
Not quite sure how, but all the presents are bought and wrapped and under the tree. There’s tinsel. And lights. And a gorgeous pine needle smell that makes me think it’s all starting to feel a little bit like Christmas.
For the first time ever, I don’t care if I don’t get a single present – because I’ve already got the best present I could ever get, and he’s currently sitting at my feet in his bouncer having a snooze.
After so many Christmases wishing I – like my siblings – had a munchkin or two of my own on my lap, tearing paper or shrieking with excitement, this year I will. Finally. Miraculously. (Although I’m not sure how much Charlie will get about Christmas, I’m sure he’s going to love the piles of paper.)
It’s been a long and amazing four months as a mama. It’s been hard. I’ve been dog tired. And more happy than I’ve ever been in my life. Which may sound strange but the two states coexist and Mr Chick and I bumble along. We both hit the wall sometimes, but taking it one day at a time somehow works.
Charlie’s personality is really starting to shine through. His latest noise is a frustrated ‘Urhhhhhhhh’ which, I won’t lie, is freaking annoying (although when he did it for so long and so loudly the other day he went into a spontaneous coughing fit I had to have a sneaky chuckle).
Speaking of coughing, he’ll often do fake coughs to get our attention which is hilarious. I can’t believe a baby knows how to DO a fake cough.
He’s teething and always has his (or my) fingers jammed in his mouth, rubbing his sore little gums. Making him take a bottle right now is near impossible, but he’s more likely to if we put his favourite cooking show on.
He smiles all the time and very, very occasionally, when something really amuses him, gives us a short ‘Hur-hur’ laugh. (I can’t wait for this to be a regular thing.)
He still sticks his bottom lip out when something upsets him.
He’s now sleeping from 7pm til 3 or 4am, then up again at 6am which I realise is pretty good for a baby of his age. He goes down without a peep at night and we’ve got our evenings back which is really quite awesome.
Some mornings, we’ll bring him into bed and tickle him and roll him about and he’ll squeal and smile and press his fat starfish hands together and those moments I just want to bottle and never, ever forget.
He shakes his head and grins when we try to stuff the dummy in.
And he’s so LOUD when he sighs or yawns. You can hear him from the other end of the house and it never fails to crack us up.
Sometimes when I’m holding him and his head is on my shoulder, I hear a slurping noise and realise he’s licking my shoulder. Or, a crunching noise – which only means he has huge handfuls of my hair and is gnawing on it. We’ve talked, but he doesn’t seem inclined to give up either habit so I suppose I’m going to have to go around with a wet, slobbery shoulder (or wet slobbery hair) for some time yet.
He’s so chunky now we can no longer bathe him in the kitchen sink, and so he has a baby bathtub we fill for him. He kicks like mad, gnaws on his rubber bath toys and grins so widely, I can’t believe there was a time he hated the bath and screamed the place down.
He talks all day. Just goo-goo-gaa-gaa type conversations, but so much that my sister thinks he’ll never stop talking once he starts. That’s fine with me. I’m sure he’s going to ask the funniest questions.
Happy first Christmas Charlie Bear. We love you!