Letters to Jack: Month 3

My dear Jack,

Let’s talk about sleep for a moment. You’re not a fan, at least during the day.

Right now, you are snoozing in your swing, so that gives me about 20 minutes to write this entire post. You take two to three, 20-minute nap chunks a day, even when sleeping in our arms.

Every. little. sound. wakes you up. You also keep one eye slightly open. Not sure if this is intentional, a fluke of anatomy, or both. It’s like you don’t want to miss one moment of this precious life.


Still, this is okay for two reasons: you’re sleeping great at night (yesterday you went from 8 p.m. to 5:30 a.m.) and you are much happier when you’re awake (thank you, Baby Zantac!).

You’re also a wiggly sleeper. Each night, we angle you in the top left corner of the bassinet, tightly swaddled. By the time you wake up, you’ve made it down to the lower right corner, and you’re completely smushed in. How does that happen?


You’re three months old, so your development is really starting to pick up. With Charlie, I was back to work by this point, so didn’t get to witness all of this. You spend all morning babbling and cooing at me. Your smiles shine into the darkest places. You’ve giggled a few times. You found your hands and enjoy shoving them in your mouth.


You discovered the play mat and have been busy batting at, and reaching for, things that jingle. You’ve begun rolling on your side.

At your last doctor’s appointment, your pediatrician ordered us to give you three, 15-minute chunks each day because you weren’t developing head control. Though I know it pisses you off, you’ve been working hard and showing great progress.


You are warm and cuddly and I want to hug you all of the time. When I burp you, I love to nuzzle the fuzzy blond hair at the back of your neck. In certain light, your hair looks red, which makes me think of Papa, who had red hair when he was younger. Sometimes I am struck with such sadness that you will never get to meet him….

Every day, I am grateful to nurse you. This time together is so precious, as I wasn’t able to experience it with Charlie. We still have some challenges (e.g. the times you simply refuse the right breast, to the point of screaming if I try to latch you – does it smell bad or something?), but they are worth it.


This time next month, I will be back at work. Although I am excited to return, I feel pressure to make the most of our time together. I’m sure this is for several reasons: you are my last baby, this is my last maternity leave, and with two kids my time with you is more limited.

Well, true to form, you just woke up. By my clock, it’s been 26 minutes, so you’re overachieving today. Let’s go spend some time cuddling.


This entry was posted in Letters to Jack and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Letters to Jack: Month 3

  1. Barbara Crawford says:

    What a mellow post. Sweet, simple, and no drama in Jack’s life. Also nothing about moving! Sometimes it helps to write on deadline 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s