Two Months

The kid turned two months old on Saturday. I am simultaneously wondering where the time has gone and feeling like it's been the longest two months ever. The next couple of weeks should fly by, though. On the docket: Will's first flight (to Alabama, to see his dad) and Will's baptism. 

As of Monday, he weighed in at 12 pounds, 15 ounces and is 22.55 inches long. Short, stocky, and sturdy - like his motha. You'd think for someone so fat, he'd LOVE nursing, but no. He chugs and finishes every meal in under ten minutes, one and done. He spends less than an hour a day now eating. He much prefers flailing his arms and legs and looking around to nursing. His ultimate favorite activities are still pooping and farting. Making eye contact, giggling, and cooing at whoever will pay attention to him is a close second! 

He went from the 11th percentile at birth (13 inches) to 89th percentile (16 inches) in head circumference because he takes after his dad:

Just look at that round noggin.

Speaking of his head, despite its massive size, he can hold it up and move around to follow sights and sounds. A woman at Starbucks commented that he holds his head up really well for a two month old, so you know it is a legit talent. It also makes it easier to tote him around in a carrier. He loves hanging out in the Moby wrap, bouncing around, and puking all over it.

The dogs still ignore him for the most part, though they like to get a sniff in here and there. I think Daisy and Ace are in for a rude awakening when this boy becomes mobile. He's already started grabbing stuff (namely, his pacifier out of his mouth and proceeding to become angry when he wonders where his pacifier went). I know Daisy's hair will be irresistible to tug. (Luckily, Ace chomps her hair out by the mouthful, so she's used to the abuse already! Two points for deciding to get a second dog.)

Sleep. Once or twice, he's blessed me with only one night waking, going 5 hour stretches. He's usually up twice a night to eat and any other number of times per night to kindly request a fresh diaper. (Will may not know it yet, but he's on poop patrol when he returns - and I cannot be more excited.)

He's had four bottles this past month (i.e., in his whole life). The pedi recommended two per week, but I'm lazy. He's never rejected ye old bottle when offered, though. He is known to take 5+ ounces from the bottle even though conventional wisdom states he should only be taking 3. If there's one thing he knows, it's how to cultivate mass.

Hand in hand with eating, is the fact that this kid has more gas/bodily fluids than I could ever imagine coming from such a small package. I say to myself on a daily basis, "Where does he store all of it?" Just click through the past few posts and you will read all about it. No need to hash it out again and again over here. However, I will sum up my experiences with the word "projectile." I needn't extrapolate. 

We started our two month photo shoot in Samsula-esque overalls:

Love the overalls, but he needed a nap, so I didn't get many pictures. I kind of knew it was coming; he peed all over his outfit.

"Eh, forgettaboutit."

Hence, the wardrobe change.

He always appears to be winking in photos, but really he just has a clogged tear duct in his right eye. Eye boogers = baby winks. Tricks of the trade. 

Sometimes I look at him and think "stop growing!" Maybe it's the baby acne, but sometimes he gives me a look that takes my imagination on a fast forward spiral toward his teenage years. Please, William, stay a sweet baby forever. Though you do have permission to sleep more like a teenager. 

Little Will can't wait for his daddy to come home from JAG School as evidenced by his generally uncooperative attitude toward FaceTiming. He prefers face-to-face interaction, which makes me think he's an extrovert.

And as usual . . .

Spit marks the end of this installment.

God bless you, William Hugh.

William at One Month.