3 months


So we've been having this ongoing debate at home about when to celebrate Auggie's monthly milestones. I thought it should be counted by number of weeks, so twelve weeks = three months. But Andy has firmly held to using calendar months, e.i. May 27th, June 27th, July 27th, etc. My argument is based on the unspoken rule that you're supposed to continue using weeks to count a baby's age until they're one and then it goes to months until age two, and then you can simplify to just years. I have to admit though that even though my pregnancy was tracked in those increments, I still have a hard time thinking in weeks. Funny side story: a women stopped me at the grocery store to ask how old my baby was and I fumbled over my words before saying "Two and a half..." And she looked quizzically at me before I clarified, "Months!" Then she furrowed her brow and corrected, "Ohhh, ten weeks". Yeah, I'm a new mom. Cut me some slack, Lady. Anyway, I have finally conceded to Andy - not so much because he's right but because I've been in over my head lately and last week, I had nothing. His logic bought me more a few more days. Be that as it may, here's what's new with Auggie-baby:

  • He's starting to seem less like a baby and more of a little boy - I can hear it in his voice. That quivering wail of a new born is gone from his cry. He's got stronger pipes and he's trying SO hard to use them to speak. We get your classic "goo" but even more than that, he's rolling his tongue around in his mouth like he's trying to form actual phrases. And he focuses so hard on our mouths when we speak that sometimes I think he's almost got it.
  • On that same note, he's said his first word! Yes, our three-month old is a genius. He said his name: Ah-gheeee
  • He's got great neck strength and can pretty much hold his head up, but just like any rigorous workout would do, it wears him out and then, his head starts to bobble and droop. He's also started stomping his feet when you hold him on your lap so, pair the two and you've got a spot-on imitation of the "Weekend at Bernie's" dance.
  • There are moments throughout the day when he's just totally content and quiet. No talking, no arms or legs flailing, no snoozing. Instead, he's intently staring at his hands, inches away from his face, with fingers tip-to-tip. He's scheming, I know it. What sort of devious plan he's devising, I do not know, but I don't trust it one bit.
  • He is TOTALLY crushing on his fist. The boy just luuuvs to stick it in his mouth and slime it up with drool. I'm not hurrying to see him with a girl or anything, and I certainly don't want him getting all lovey-dovey with one any time soon, but he better get that slobbering under control lest he scare all the good ones away for being a bad kisser. Just saying.


Anonymous said...

This is a very nice recount of the days in the develpment of our little "Agustín", especially for those of us who aren't so often with him or near enough to enjoy his growth. This is not a complain and if it sounds like that, well it will only be our own fault; we know where they live and can call in the phone to make an appointment, for we know how busy this family is going to be from now on with both parents working, etc. But that's why I enjoy reading every line of this well-written story of Agustín,s life. (I will write on my insistence to call him "Agustín" in a separate space, in the near future.


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