Once again I am a week behind, but I am going photo heavy to make up for the delay and hope my rather addled memory can cast itself back a week.
Last week you had your four week check up (unusually alert was the nurses verdict) and continued noisily gulping down the milk. Your grandad claimed you sound like a demented mouse when you feed but this is clearly not true. When all went well you gazed up at me with flattering intensity, when things were not to your satisfaction you kicked one little foot and punched one little arm with vigour.
I loved the way you curl your little fingers and toes - all going in different directions. You often rested with a little fist by your mouth and just one little finger thoughtfully resting on your lips.
You have a very characteristic expression wherein you thrust out your lower lip and your face seems to go very wide and chubby cheeked. Your brother had it too. It is very sweet, you do it especially when you're having a curvy little stretch, bringing up your knees and arching your back, especially when replete with milk.
You continued to travel exceptionally well. You fell asleep as soon as the car started and remained asleep as I loaded and unloaded you in your sling, your little head just beneath my chin and in the perfect place to drop kisses.
You still made little snuffle sounds when you slept, and sometimes the sweetest little sighings.
You still smelt like baby - milky and possetty but no longer like newborn. I missed the newborn smell - it is so indescribable, so fleeting and so precious. Your smiles and ever growing awareness do make up for it though!
Last week we were still embroiled in sickness - your big brother came down with the horrible fever that has been plaguing us all and I kept him home from school. It's so hard to see your brother sick - he's normally so full of action and movement that to see him flushed and achy and falling asleep in the middle of the day seems ridiculously wrong. Of course, while at home he had enough moments of energy to keep the house in turmoil. He is incredibly sweet with you though, and loves to hold you and sing you songs. (I am embarrassed to admit it was a lot easier to wait with him at ballet for you sister when he was sick - there was less climbing of walls and campaigning for the sweets and chips they sell as fundraisers..)
Your daddy started a new rotation at a hospital further up the highway last week. Nothing much changed. He leaves the house before six am - occasionally before five for the ward round that starts at 6.30 and generally gets home around seven pm. The little car my granny loaned us is not liking the increased drive and he often has to stop three or four times to coax it along.
Last week was also the week we applied for internships for next year, ranking and re-ranking all the hospitals and then deciding to change it all again. It was exciting and scary to realise what a change these decisions will mean. We have no idea where we'll be next year (although strong preferences!) City, country? Queensland, Victoria? We should know in a couple of months. We spent a lot of time in the early hours of the morning with me feeding you while I edited cover letters and obsessively checked your brother and sisters temperatures.) It's strange to think our four years of med schools is nearly (touch wood) done. We're 7/8ths of the way through. (Not that we're desperately counting down the
You were smiling more and more and each time it is amazing, so full of joy and wonder and promise