You are four months old today. It's 2:30 in the morning and I'm finally able to sneak away and write. Oh, and throw your diapers in the dryer. Since I started back to work you've been capitalizing on the Mamma-time at night to make up for not spending our days together. That's fine with me because I miss you all day, too. Getting started with the sitter was pretty rough, mostly because you want nothing to do with a bottle. And there was that jealous 18-month old that bit you on the nose. Not a good start.
We have figured that you are just no fan of plastic in your mouth, and I can't say I blame you. You don't even like rubber teethers. Luckily Poppy and you are figuring out about cup feeding, so we are just moving on from there. It's messy, but at least you are eating for your sitter and Poppy when I'm not around.
You are still learning about those hands of yours, and are now sucking on your fingers whenever you get the chance. And chewing on other people's fingers when they get close enough. I can see a little white sliver of tooth under the skin, so I know you'll be cutting it in the next couple of weeks.
You have started laughing this past month too. Mostly at us and our imbacilic provokings. You have also discovered that your voice has pitch, so your sounds, your ghh-yays, and nhoooms, now peak at deafeningly girlish squeals.You still seem like a pretty serious kid, hyper alert and "drinking" in everything you see and hear all day long, but there's an element of you that seems to be relaxing and enjoying things. You are happy to just hang out and play when we are out and about. Halloween is coming up and we're getting pretty excited by the prospects of dressing you up and showing you off on our front porch this year. I haven't measured you in a long time, but looking at how much bigger you are than your monkey (you now only fit in 6-9 or even 12 month clothes!!!) I know you'll be needing a bigger costume than I would have ever imagined.
As we approach the holiday season I can't help but think about your brother, especially when it's all quiet in the house and I have a few moments to myself. It's as if there's a ghost that I catch out of the corner of my eye, but in my mind. I ache thinking that you will never know him. It's still difficult to know how to respond to folks when we are out together and they ask if you are my first. I want to tell them about Burke, about the weight of loss I carry with me, to share my story and his. Sometimes it hurts so much knowing he is gone from our family. Instead, when people ask me that seemingly innocuous question (not knowing that for some lostbabymamas the question is like lava to our ears) I just answer "yes," and move on. A little denial that hurts, yet protects. The rest of the day is filled with a silent "I'msorry,I'msorry,I'msorry..." in my heart. I can't deny them from admiring you, though. You are one cute little guy. I just remember to NEVER ask a mamma that question.
Well, it's just after 3am, so I should get myself to bed. You'll be up sooner than I think, ready to look and learn and laugh your way through another day...
I love you "this" much, Bennett.