8w 4d parenting

My boys watching TV

I love this picture. There is something so 1950s about it in black and white.

Fletcher is growing at high speed. Every day, he's longer and heavier. Pretty soon he'll be wearing his 3-6 month outfits, though they'll undoubtedly be baggy on my lean little guy.

His personality is beginning to shine. We're getting giggles and gurgling and conversations (we discuss quantum physics and the meaning of life). It's exciting knowing that this part is only going to keep getting better. He still has no interest in toys or bouncers or dangling things. When I attempt to get him to play, he looks at me like, "What am I, a cat?"

Monday night, Fletcher slept for the longest stretch yet -- from 7:30 p.m. until 2:00 a.m. Tuesday night, he only fed at 9:30 p.m., 2:30 a.m., and 5:30 a.m. I'm taking it as a sign that he's perfectly healthy (read: not spoiled) and is working his way up to sleeping through the night, on his own. This morning was a special circumstance, as Fletcher's stuffy nose escalated to the point where he wasn't getting enough air to allow him to sleep or even eat. The nose aspirator by itself wasn't much good, as Fletcher's parents neglected to stock saline solution.

While nighttime is a breeze, daytime is another matter. Andy has testified that Fletch can cry for six minutes straight and then stop and fall asleep as soon as daddy holds him. Probably not ideal.

Hey you!

My goal has been to give this little man anything and everything that he wants and needs. And really, during the hours that I'm home, he isn't very needy. Part of me wishes he was, since it seems like I need him more than he needs me.

I know this isn't everyone's parenting approach. I may draw criticism for quickly answering every cry, and still having him sleep in his cradle in my bedroom. I have the advantage no one else has of ending fussiness with the breastfeeding cure-all. Having him there in the room is convenient... but also a comfort for me.

There are as many ways to parent as there are people in the world. Nearly two months in, I'm sure that I'm already not following the guidelines in the books. Normally, that would freak me out. But I know we have the important things down. So far he is healthy, happy and loved, so loved, by the people around him. I know that love can hurt a child if it turns a parent into a weak disciplinarian, but if I stop trusting my instincts I'll go insane.

happy baby