My baby is 8 weeks old today.
And we're all still standing.
Even though he is my third baby, I still worry about all the same things I did with the girls: is he growing? Is he happy? Is he being stimulated enough? Is he sleeping enough? Pooping enough? Burping enough?
Though I do have a slightly better ability to look at him objectively and say definitively: yes, he's doing just fine. He's growing like a weed and to me doesn't look newborn-y anymore. His cheeks are luscious and full and when he started smiling last week we discovered a dimple on his left cheek. No one else has dimples so this is particularly awe-inspiring for me as his mother.
I love him. I'm in love with him. I think everything he does is amazing and wonderful and I can't stop kissing his gorgeous head and telling him I love him.
And I hope he feels this love every time I kiss his forehead or cheek or neck.
I love having three kids. I love the busy-ness this brings to my life and the sense of fullness. I love thinking about the holidays with all these warm, cozy little bodies (in coordinating pajamas, of course). I love sitting on the couch, holding Alec with a girl on either side of me, leaning their heads on my shoulders as we all watch SpongeBob in the morning. I love thinking about the next 20 years as they all grow and become their own people and all the memories we'll have of this time.
I am such a sap that last night we discovered that we don't have a good pencil sharpener in the house and I was thrilled with the prospect of having to buy one. Because big families with big kids need good pencil sharpeners for schoolwork. It doesn't even really make sense, but somehow feeds into my overwhelming desire to provide all I can for these three little people that God has put into my care.
Of course there are moments- some of which last several HOURS- when they are whiny and crying and cross and I feel overwhelmed and exhausted and out of patience. But the last eight weeks have been remarkably calm, fun and quick. The bad stuff sort of recedes over time and the happiness stays at the fore. I'm not saying it's perfect, but man, it's really good most of the time.
Alec is a blessing that we are watching unfold right before our eyes.
Michaela made us parents; Jenna made us a family; Alec was made out of love.