Dear Bee,
Holy crap. One of these days you’re going to be pregnant with your own little Bee and I’m going to throw this book called The Wonder Weeks
It turns out that 8 weeks is just a horribly, no-good time for pretty much every baby, Bee. And those nursing issues I thought you had last week? Two seconds after I wrote that letter, you started to reject feeding time with Dad, too. You just all of the sudden weren’t hungry (which is rare for you, little butterball). And this went on for days. And had I not known that a poor appetite and crazy fussiness were signs of the 8-week developmental leap you were making, I might have driven to the ER in a complete panic.
Instead, I waited it out, praying for your bad attitude (yes, attitude, Bee. That is precisely what you gave us.) to pass. And today? It did! It did! It was as if you woke up and a switch had flipped. You were suddenly… happy. And suddenly a baby. Not a newborn that drove your father and I completely mad. You were a baby. A baby that had found her hands and was happily sucking on every finger she could manage to fit into her tiny mouth all at once. A baby that can now occupy herself by giggling at a piece of bright, patterned fabric hanging from our chandelier. A baby that can sit in a swing happily for an entire twenty minutes while your mother showers (thank you, by the way!).
Bee, we went to the grocery store this week and you didn’t cry once. (And you held the tortilla chips for me – thanks for that, too!) This has never happened! I’m just so, so proud of you and the happy baby you’re becoming. It took you a bit, but I’d wait another 100 years if it meant I could witness your happiness for a second. Keep it up, tiger.
XO,
Mama
*Huge thanks to Lisa Solomon for recommending this book in the comment section of this post!