Vaughn rolled over today. This morning I told him he would do it today, and he tried all morning and finally did it early this afternoon. At least this little boy listens to his mama. He also figured out how to make the motorboat sound today (no, he did not motorboat ME, he just motorboated... the air). Earlier this week I was reading back a few years in ye olde blog and noted that Greyson had already rolled over at this age. But he was still struggling to master the motorboat. It's really handy to look back and see when G did things, because it helps me anticipate when V will do them. But I also find myself comparing... something mom's are notorious for, something I try to avoid (even if it is my own two children).
I mean, comparing's alright, I have been comparing these two since they day Vaughn was born. But the judgement that comes along with the comparison is hard to avoid. G rolled over earlier, he was more advanced. Vaughn laughed a little earlier (in the mirror at Jo & Pops house on our vacation), he has a better sense of humor ;-)
I have an obsession with remembering. I wish I was like Marilu Henner and could remember everything. I'm afraid to forget, something I have to remind myself is natural. If I don't remember, how will it hurt me? I'm just afraid of letting go of the memories. So I should just be thankful everyday that I have hundreds of photos and videos of Vaughn, even if it's less than I have of Greyson. I should remind myself to record the important things, and even the everyday things here, so that I can enjoy the memories in the future. But if I never remember the exact day that Greyson first waved (at our garage sale, I think), or the moment that Vaughn discovered his hands? I hope I'll still live a happy and fulfilled life.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Baby Hands
For literally months, I've been composing a post about Vaughn's hands. If only you could read the blog posts in my mind!
Vaughn was born with long, thin, delicate fingernails. You can see them in some of his newborn photos. I had to trim them almost immediately and of course I ended up trimming his finger too. I've never been great with baby nails. Which is worse, him scratching his own face, or me nicking his fingers when I trim the nails?
I still struggle with his nails, which need trimming weekly, but so far he's pretty cooperative. Greyson even lets me trim his nails these days, which is a huge improvement since he fought me for most of his toddler years.
A few months ago I found myself googling infant fists, and trying to remember when they loosen up. These are the little things you forget about babies... how they keep those fists so tightly balled up for months. I was giving Vaughn a bath and opened up a fist to clean inside, where I found a little sweaty ball of lint.
It's a fun stage, when you can put rattles and objects in baby's grasp and they hang on tightly. One morning on the way to Grey's summer camp, I was delighted to see Vaughn in his carseat finally reaching out for a toy (not a toy actually but some of those links that you hang toys on). It was one of the first things he did after just being just a little blob of a baby for so long. I was excited because that meant he could start to entertain himself, but seconds later I heard him fussing and crying. At the next stoplight I turned around and realized he had gotten his whole hand stuck in the plastic ring and was frustrated that he couldn't get his arm back!
Now that he's more than 3 1/2 months old, Vaughn's grabbing things and starting to stuff them into his mouth. Especially his burp cloths, these days they're usually dripping with his drool. He's also discovered his hands belong to him, and loves to stare at them and coo to them. If he gets loose from his swaddle overnight I sometimes find him talking to them contentedly in the morning, turning them over and exploring each side.
I trimmed his fingernails successfully this morning, no finger snips and no tears. I can't wait to see what he does with his hands next.
Vaughn was born with long, thin, delicate fingernails. You can see them in some of his newborn photos. I had to trim them almost immediately and of course I ended up trimming his finger too. I've never been great with baby nails. Which is worse, him scratching his own face, or me nicking his fingers when I trim the nails?
 |
| check out those fingernails! |
A few months ago I found myself googling infant fists, and trying to remember when they loosen up. These are the little things you forget about babies... how they keep those fists so tightly balled up for months. I was giving Vaughn a bath and opened up a fist to clean inside, where I found a little sweaty ball of lint.
It's a fun stage, when you can put rattles and objects in baby's grasp and they hang on tightly. One morning on the way to Grey's summer camp, I was delighted to see Vaughn in his carseat finally reaching out for a toy (not a toy actually but some of those links that you hang toys on). It was one of the first things he did after just being just a little blob of a baby for so long. I was excited because that meant he could start to entertain himself, but seconds later I heard him fussing and crying. At the next stoplight I turned around and realized he had gotten his whole hand stuck in the plastic ring and was frustrated that he couldn't get his arm back!
Now that he's more than 3 1/2 months old, Vaughn's grabbing things and starting to stuff them into his mouth. Especially his burp cloths, these days they're usually dripping with his drool. He's also discovered his hands belong to him, and loves to stare at them and coo to them. If he gets loose from his swaddle overnight I sometimes find him talking to them contentedly in the morning, turning them over and exploring each side.
I trimmed his fingernails successfully this morning, no finger snips and no tears. I can't wait to see what he does with his hands next.
Is he a good baby?
Someone asked me that the other day and it struck me as odd. Even odder was my response. I paused... and started in on my "we make fussy babies" speech. Later it dawned on me. Of course he's a good baby. Are there really bad babies? And over the past month or two, since spending some time at my parents' house and really figuring out his rhythm, he's become a great baby. Only it's not Vaughn that has changed, it's me! I've learned his cues, watched his patterns emerge, realized he needs a little help to settle down for a nap, perfected the swaddle.
So instead of asking someone if their baby is good, maybe ask if they've figured each other out yet. Because I've finally got this boy's number, and it's made all the difference. I feel like a good mommy.
Makes me wonder if it just took me longer to get to know Greyson, being new at the whole motherhood thing. Or maybe my memory is flawed and we had settled into things by this stage, too. I'm just thankful I've learned so much in the 3 1/2 months since I met Vaughn. We make quite a team.
So instead of asking someone if their baby is good, maybe ask if they've figured each other out yet. Because I've finally got this boy's number, and it's made all the difference. I feel like a good mommy.
Makes me wonder if it just took me longer to get to know Greyson, being new at the whole motherhood thing. Or maybe my memory is flawed and we had settled into things by this stage, too. I'm just thankful I've learned so much in the 3 1/2 months since I met Vaughn. We make quite a team.
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