Miles is, obviously, the best baby in the universe. Duh. He doesn't do anything miraculous like sleep through the night (ha!) or speak Spanish (yet), but he does other miraculous things like wake up every morning wanting to play for an hour, and stare wide-eyed at the window, which he just noticed, and suck on Jesse's nose. He has been holding his head up since the day he was born, but now he actually looks at us when he does it, without crossing his eyes! He talks in his sleep, too, which is so killer.
Sleep isn't happening so much, for me and Miles at least - our current nighttime schedule involves 3 hours of solid sleep right when we go to bed, then he's up every hour (no exxageration) to snack after that. I've been attempting to keep him awake longer at each feeding so he gets more in his belly, but it's legit impossible to keep him up once he passes out at the boob. I strip him, flick his feet, make him do situps, whine plaintively in his ear - nuthin. He just lays there all droopy with a satisfied smirk on his face. And then, of course, is awake, hungry again, in 45 minutes. It's cute. Everyone keeps telling me that this will change on its own, that eventually he'll know the difference between night and day and just naturally do a little more eating during the day, a little more sleeping at night. I, however, am skeptical.
I already get all weepy when I think about how fast he's growing. Sure, there are things I dislike about this stage - lack of sleep, almount of spitup flowing down my shirt on a regular basis, inability to do silly things like eat a meal or shower. But they're nothing compared to how amazing it is to have this tiny person curled up on my chest, squeaking in his sleep. I think that that image of him, the top of his head pressed against my throat and his fists curled up under his chin, is how I'll always think of him. Which I'm sure he'll hate when he's 25.
And holy cow, do I adore my husband. Wow. I was worried that once Bundle came, I would find myself sadly feeling less for Jesse, since all the love directed itself towards the baby. Well, I'm an idiot. Apparently there is not finite amount of love, and things just seem to multiply exponentially because man, I am swimming in it lately. It's almost gross