So LittleWorm has made it to three (weeks, that is). Hip hip hurrah! Stressed parents have stopped leaping out of bed to see if he’s still breathing, picking him up whenever he utters a mewp, and sweating the petty stuff like diaper rash and length of feeding.
Theo met his pediatrician on Friday morning. He’s growing faster than expected and overall in good shape. Dr. Spector was selected due to his professed affiliation with an original SNL cast member and the fact he seems to have been awarded every award there is to award. (We also loved the fact that either parents adored his slapstick bedside manner or abhorred him for being too funny – ahh Seattlites love to complain in the most underhanded ways.) It took some perseverance to get in with him, but relentless motherly nagging won him over. I’ll need practice to hold my own against Madrona mychildfirstmoms and Leschi angryoldwhitedads.
Theo at Three is much more engaging than Theo at Two. Baby acne aside, the fact that he sleeps in his crib, smiles vaguely, makes noises other than shrieks (little endearing pig snorts are new), and shuts up when plugged with a pacifier makes us happy. and happy.
Special thanks to JO and CARLIN and ABUELA CHERI for making the last couple weeks bearable. Steve would have wasted away without your delicious meal preparations and Erin would have moved into the basement behind the stacks of stereo equipment and old bikes.
Those who have not yet met Theo, ne LittleWorm, will be getting called back soon. He’s nearly ready for his coming-out ball.
