Oh my Simon,
You turned four months a week ago. See, I always procrastinate on finishing these. I swear it’s the Second Child Syndrome. I dragged you to one of those baby music classes the other day and instead of staring at you in awe and sing-song-screaming hello to all the other bald, drooling, ugly babies along with the crowd of overzealous yuppie yummy mummies who you could tell had been released from the bondage of home for this once-weekly class outing and had brought their best Burberry trenches and their spotless Bugaboos and their very happy attitudes – well, instead I was feeling snarky and smug with my beat-up umbrella stroller and disheveled clothes and the fact that I knew a secret a lot of them didn’t because you are my Second Child: these classes are embarrassing and you and I are too cool for them. So we’ll be going back next week I’m sure.
I guess my long-winded point is that you have a been-there-done-that mom. The good news is that you are such a phenomenal little person, I don’t even have to fake my amazement. It’s just selective now. You’re not going to get any points from me for advances in your pincer grasp, for example. In fact, I’d like to just hurry it right along so we can get to that stage where I never have to run into your bedroom to put the pacifier back in your mouth.
I have plenty of awe though, for
How big you are. At four months old, you’re wearing nine month clothing and I recently bought you 18 month socks to make life a little easier on both of us.
Your hair. It’s still awesome. From the front it’s dark brown and full and shiny and beautiful. From the back you have a big bald spot and that strange row of hair just on the bottom that some babies get.
How alert you are. You’re alert, Simon. So interested in everything. So content to just check it all out.
How much you adore your brother. You stare at Jonah. And he’s good to you. He is so concerned about your well-being and so excited to tell you things and get things for you. Only twice have I walked into the room and he is sitting right on top of you and excitedly shouting “Horsey!”
Your giggles. They are that fun kind of repeating staccato baby giggle and you love to do them most when you’re lifted into the air by my feet as Super Simon. I have only almost dropped you once.
How much you hate tummy time. Tummy Time is an annoying phrase, so I’ll forgive you. Truthfully, if you want to take forever to crawl, this mom is totes cool with that.
How I still forget all the time that you can, and want, to grab things in your personal space. Books, thank goodness. Sometimes punching me, unfortunately. And more than once some of our dinner has ended up on you a little. For at least a week your sleep sack had some peanut sesame sauce on it. That sauce was good by the way.
You’re laid back. The other day we went to the aquarium and when we exited, I thought I might as well change you before getting back on the 159 bus home. So in typical cuckoo mom fashion, I decided to change you right on top of the double stroller, on the pavement alongside the Thames on one side and a McDonalds (with lovely al fresco dining space) on the other, for the whole world to see. I couldn’t really mind Jonah at the same time so he took temporary residence on a bench, clutching his new motorcycle toy and very politely listening to the Friendliest Wino I Have Ever Seen in My Life who knows all about water vehicles. And you were cool with it. Right there along the Thames, in the cold, in your birthday suit, with buckles digging into your back, the stroller wheels I had not secured moving you around and your older brother hanging with the pigeons and the drunks. You just fit into the family perfectly.
Your peacefulness in the bath. You never cry in the bath. Ever. Never complain. You take all that water in your eyes like a (baby) man.
Your cheeks. People comment on them frequently. They are impressive. And delicious. I have been known to snack on them. And they perfectly frame
Your smile. The smile that Just Won’t Quit.
I love that smile. I love it. I love it I love it I love it I love it I love it. I love it.