Dear Farrah Part 3

Holy cow, you're 3 months old today!!! You have your second cold and this one is not as friendly as the last one. You're so congested. When you breath, you sound like a pig. I've been using the little suction bulb on you, and at first you don't mind, but then as I start getting a rhythm going, you start to cry. This, of course, makes me feel like crap because I made you cry. However, I guess you got even with me by passing your virus onto me. Thanks for that. I've been propping you up to allow the mucus to flow out of your face rather than out your ass. Yeah, about that...you pooped snot. Twice. I thought for sure there was something terribly wrong with what I was seeing in your diaper, so I called the doctor. He said it was a common thing since babies don't know to blow their noses, they just swallow the snot. It's kinda gross, but makes perfectly good sense. You've been sleeping A LOT due to not feeling well. And that makes me feel bad for you. However, like the last time you were under the weather, you still give your dad and I that bright smile that says "everything's okay even when I feel like crap."

One of the neat things about you being 3 months old are the fun clothes I get to start putting you in. I haven't been able to put you in some of your "outfits" until recently. You are just now fitting in the 0-3 months clothes. You're so tiny that you still fit in your newborn clothes. Not for too much longer, though. This month you've worn two dresses and three pairs of pants. That's quite the change from your usual onesies and pajamas. We did have one weird moment when we put you in a dress and took you out to a restaurant with us. I figured we were finally going to go out for a nice dinner and figured I'd put you in a pretty red dress your Grandma Jan bought you. In my mind, I assumed this would also help people decipher whether you were a boy or a girl. The first person who looked in your carrier asked us, "How old is he? How big was he when he was born?" Your father responded with, "Well, HE is a SHE" and he continued to answer her questions from there. This was weird to us, because everything about you screams, GIRL.



Yesterday, I went through your room and started to "nest" again. I have hated how I organized things when you were on your way here. Since I had figured how I liked things to be, I had to rearrange your clothes. In doing so, I came across a whole bunch of clothes you can no longer wear. Those items would be any and all of your preemie clothes. Not only that, but the hats and clothes the hospital provided. Since your dad and I are sentimental idiots and don't feel comfortable throwing anything away that has anything connected to you, we will be saving those items. That means, when you read this when you're older, you will know exactly what I'm writing about because you will actually get to see them.

Every week your talking skills get stronger and stronger. Also, you've started to learn how to scream. It's actually a cross between a scream and a squeal. It usually starts before a cry and sometimes before you begin whining and then talking. You move your tongue around and try to tell me about your day. Not only does your mouth move, but you have several facial expressions to accompany your story and make it more complete and believable. You are able to lift your left eye brow while leaving the right one in a relaxed position. This is something that I can do and your father can do. This is your "I'm planning something evil and I'll be sure to leave it for you in my diaper" look.



Your new best friends are Left Hand and Right Hand. They constantly take up residence in your mouth. It seems that you've started to learn that they actually serve a purpose. When I give you your pacifier, your hands quickly head straight for the mouth and assist in keeping it in place. You have just recently started doing the same with your bottle. You aren't strong enough to hold it in place, but you seem to be quite aware that you can certainly help balance it.

You have discovered TV. Don't worry, it will not become your babysitter. You seem to really enjoy baby Einstein. And then there's your smile. I can't help but talk about it all the time. Your smile is SO BIG. I LOVE IT!!! The way you smile is almost too much for me. When you first see me or your dad, you smile really big, turn your head to the side, and almost in a bashful manner, pull your hands up to your face and hide. After that it's just constant ear to ear grinning. You already have some amazing smile lines around your eyes. That's a good sign. Smile lines are much more flattering that frown lines. However, you do frown sometimes, too. It's almost an expression of deep thought. Could be pooping, though. Well, you're starting to make a creaking door sound which means I need to head over and prevent the inevitable screaming. I can hardly believe you are already a quarter of a year old. Crazy.

I love you, Face.

Mama