6 months ago I went to the hospital to have a baby. (And rightly so, judging by this picture. At least my booty looked small!)
Frankly, I really would have preferred to just sleep and let my body do what it knows best. I mean, quadriplegic women have babies, right? And how much pushing can they really do? Why can't I do that? *pout* So I was induced in the morning, and I got the epidural when I felt like it, which was before things got really uncomfortable. (So different from Alex's natural birth.) Between pushing--which I did because I was supposed to, not because I wanted to--I chatted and joked with the doctor and my husband. I've never done that. Usually I'm in the zone and nothing exists unless I can hear you or you're touching me (and I might not want you touching me). But this time I had an "Okay, let's get this over with" attitude. So weird.
Anyway, when all was said & done, all those begrudging pushes gave us this:
8lbs of Weston Matthew
This kid is a charmer and a flirt. A little eye contact is usually all it takes for him to break into a great big grin. It's so big that he often has to turn away or put his chubby fists up to his mouth. This boy has grown women giggling.
We call him Little Man, but really he isn't. Well he used to be.
Lookit that teeny tiny little bundle tucked happily in my hospital gown!
And technically he is a small human. But a couple of weeks ago I stepped onto the scale with both of us, then just me. I did the calculations in my head, but the number didn't come out right. So I did it again. Same numbers, same mental math. Then I used a dry-erase marker on the bathroom mirror (they wipe right off with a little square of tp, so they're the best for love notes, to-do lists, phone messages--whatever!) to do the math. Sure enough, Mr. Weston weighed in at a whopping 20.6 lbs...at 5 1/2 months!
We call him Ginormo Boy.
And the funny things is that he's not fat. I mean, he's a baby and he's got some chunk on his thighs and cottage cheese on his butt and everything, but he's not FAT. Just solid! He's very proportionate...for an 8-month old. I moved him into 6-9mo clothes at 4 1/2 months. Crazy. I can't even touch my fingers around his ribcage. I also call him Bohunk. And Lug. But mostly I call him Cutie Guy.
1 month--looks like both of his big brothers
2 months--puttin' on the chubs
(And who's feeding Abby the Miracle Gro?)
3 months--his first controlled arm motions
4 months--a redhead party!
5 months--NAKED BABY!
6 months--'sharing' his blanket with his big sis
I think I'll keep him.