Today is Max's third birthday! Happy third birthday to Max!
(This is, of course, only true for the cardinal sense of
third, i.e. he is one-third of a year old. It is not true for the ordinal sense of
third in that Max has not had his first or second birthday yet.)
I've
mentioned before that at two months, Max turned from a baby who almost never cried to a rather fussy baby. That trend has continued, sadly, and has taken some sad turns. First is that Max is not the best napper. When he naps like the books say he is supposed to, he is usually quite happy and contented in between. The problem is that he hates napping for some reason. Left to his own devices he will take 30-minute catnaps and then rub his sleepy red eyes and cry the rest of the time. Katie can extend his naps to a more helpful two hours but only so long as she is holding him. If she puts him down in any of the dark, comfortable, climate-controlled sleeping spaces that we have in the house (even the ones that vibrate), he wakes up and starts crying again.
The worst part is that I am not an equivalent in this regard. Max has become more and more of a Mama's boy over the past two months. Sometimes he will cry nonstop for me for thirty minutes while I try rocking, swaddling, unswaddling, bouncing, cooing, singing (usually he's partial to Irish ballads), and changing position every ten seconds. Katie finally gets so depressed that he's crying that she will come over and take him from me and he instantly calms down and soon thereafter falls asleep.
This is actually rather sad for both of us. Katie wishes that Max were more calmed by me so that she could hand him off every now and again to take a shower or read some email or just sit and relax for a bit. Meanwhile, I turn green with envy when Max sleeps so peacefully in her arms while I am cold comfort at best.
It's not completely one-sided, anyway. When I get home from work and greet Max with a cheerful "Hello, Baby," for example, he always gives me a huge smile. He likes Daddy plenty, as long as he doesn't have to spend too much time in my dolorous arms.
Today is Max's third birthday! Happy third birthday to Max!
(This is, of course, only true for the cardinal sense of third, i.e. he is one-third of a year old. It is not true for the ordinal sense of third in that Max has not had his first or second birthday yet.)
I've mentioned before that at two months, Max turned from a baby who almost never cried to a rather fussy baby. That trend has continued, sadly, and has taken some sad turns. First is that Max is not the best napper. When he naps like the books say he is supposed to, he is usually quite happy and contented in between. The problem is that he hates napping for some reason. Left to his own devices he will take 30-minute catnaps and then rub his sleepy red eyes and cry the rest of the time. Katie can extend his naps to a more helpful two hours but only so long as she is holding him. If she puts him down in any of the dark, comfortable, climate-controlled sleeping spaces that we have in the house (even the ones that vibrate), he wakes up and starts crying again.
The worst part is that I am not an equivalent in this regard. Max has become more and more of a Mama's boy over the past two months. Sometimes he will cry nonstop for me for thirty minutes while I try rocking, swaddling, unswaddling, bouncing, cooing, singing (usually he's partial to Irish ballads), and changing position every ten seconds. Katie finally gets so depressed that he's crying that she will come over and take him from me and he instantly calms down and soon thereafter falls asleep.
This is actually rather sad for both of us. Katie wishes that Max were more calmed by me so that she could hand him off every now and again to take a shower or read some email or just sit and relax for a bit. Meanwhile, I turn green with envy when Max sleeps so peacefully in her arms while I am cold comfort at best.
It's not completely one-sided, anyway. When I get home from work and greet Max with a cheerful "Hello, Baby," for example, he always gives me a huge smile. He likes Daddy plenty, as long as he doesn't have to spend too much time in my dolorous arms.
Awww, what a cutie! Julian was a terrible napper at first, and terribly cranky as a result. Turned out he much preferred to be a stomach sleeper, so I did some reasearch on stomach-sleeping risks, and decided to put him to sleep that way. Sh, don't tell! :)
ReplyDeleteI love the fashion show that these photos present! Here's to more sleep (in the crib) in the next few months...
ReplyDeleteOF COURSE HE IS A MAMAS BOY!! AND A PAPAS BOY!!!!!AND A SWEET ANGEL!!!!
ReplyDeleteHAPPY THIRD BIRTHDAY!!!! LOVE GRAMMA!!~
ReplyDeleteYes, the 30 minute nap, I remember it well. I thought I would go insane. I promise it will get better, though. It's a good thing he is so cute! Hang in there!
ReplyDelete