Did I mention that Eric's umbilical hernia has healed? About a week and a half ago, over the course of a few days, his belly button bubble, about the diameter of a quarter and about half an inch deep, slowly deflated, and now his belly button looks mostly normal. I had to laugh, because I had read that most umbilical hernias "heal on their own within two years"; somehow, I interpreted that to mean that he would have it for almost two years. It never occurred to me that it would go away sooner.
His birthmark started fading at about the same time, and my stretch marks also faded from bright red to brick red. My stomach also feels normal again--it's still a different shape than it used to be, but it doesn't feel so floppy as it did the first three months post-partum.
I have been researching post-partum hair loss, and supposedly what is going on is that the hormones of pregnancy have caused my follicles to synchronize. Whereas normally follicles are growing, lying dormant, and shedding on a staggered schedule, mine are all doing it together now, like the Rockettes. In time, my follicles will de-synchronize again. So they say.
Two days ago, I set up the Pack-n-Play for Eric; he has outgrown the antique cradle, and also, I thought, needed a more stable surface to practice for rolling on. After setting up the playpen (or "playard," as it calls itself), I put Eric in it on his stomach, stepped into the kitchen for a moment to wash my hands, and came back into the living room to find Eric on his back. "Ah!" I said to myself, "Some mysterious person has dashed into the house, flipped the baby, and dashed out again."
The next day, I put Eric in the playard on his back, stepped into the kitchen to wash my hands (these are all post-diapering events), and came back into the living room to find Eric on his stomach. "Ah!" I said to myself, "Some mysterious person has dashed into the house, flipped the baby, and dashed out again." We've got to improve our door locks.
Eric loves flipping back-to-front, and is also a master back-scooter, by which I mean he lies on his back and pushes himself around with his feet. Perhaps he has a future as an auto mechanic.
We have some very cute fleecy outfits for these cold autumnal days, though it is a testament to the changeability of the weather than, putting away a mere 48 hours worth of Eric's laundry, I folded both shorts sets and super-warm rompers.
Most of the clothes Eric owns, he is at least the third baby to wear, and they are beginning to show it. Not from the babies; infants are very easy on clothes. They mostly lie around, the worst thing they do stain-wise is spit up milk, which washes out easily, and they rarely stay in any particular outfit for more than a few hours. But their clothes go through the wash a lot, and most of Eric's clothes are showing the effects of having suffered three babies' worth of laundering; many of them came to us already beginning to fade. The next person to get the enormous cardboard box labeled "Outgrown Baby Clothes and Stuff--To Three Months" is not likely to be able to use only the hand-me-downs as I have done, but will likely want to supplement with some shiny new clothes, to avoid the baby looking shabby.
Perhaps that next baby will be mine! I told David yesterday that to achieve maximum economy, we need to start soon: my leftover ovulation predictor kits expire in April.
We have noticed that the animals on baby clothes are not required to be accurately drawn. We've had more than one conversation that goes like this: "Well, it has a thing there that might be a trunk...perhaps it's an elephant." "No, look, it has pointy ears, it must be a dog with a really long nose." The other morning, David woke up and looked at Eric's sleeper, which was decorated with some sort of barnyard fowl wearing sailor a sailor hat, and said, "This outfit has chuckens on it!" (Chuckens=chicken-ducks.)
Today Eric had another day of clinginess. Every time I put him down to sleep, he would wake up and fuss. Plus he ate four times between 12 noon and 6 p.m., for a total of 20 ounces. I told David and Scott when they got home that if I were a nursing mother, they would have found my dried-out husk on the living room floor. Now, of course, since D&S are home, Eric is happily swinging and chatting to himself, just like he hasn't been willing to do all day. David and Scott don't believe me that Eric has high-needs days because he never does it when they're around. Is it just coincidence, or does he know I'm a sucker for cuddling?