Here we are– 7 months earthside.
We are emerging from a month with a clingy, fussy baby and the longest nurse-a-thon of my entire milkmaid career. I’ve been breastfeeding (collectively) a total of 2 years– a number that I know will continue to grow, which brings a peaceful pride to my mama heart. Otto baby, as a nursling, is insistent and a bit rough. We have yet to see any teeth pop through, but my girls say otherwise. The first 10 days postpartum have always been a nursing nightmare (with every child). Even with perfect little latches, I’ve always experienced extreme cracking, bleeding, and mastitis. When Otto was 6 days old, I went to see our pediatrician for lactation support. I’ll never forget her face when she saw the war zone.
“Oh, Maggie! This is the worst I’ve ever seen. I cannot believe you’re nursing through it!”
But everytime, I survive– and babies thrive.
That being said– this is the first time I’ve experienced the “war zone” this far into infancy. I’m working on nursing boundaries: breaking his latch when he bites or pulls and affirmation with tone of voice. I’m hoping (for my girls’ sake) that we can find a peaceful ground.
We’ve introduced more solids into his diet. This baby kicks wildly and grabs at spoons that come anywhere near his face. I blanch and peel peaches and let him gnaw them to death. He’s also a fan of whole peeled apples– you’d be surprised how much he can demolish! We’ve also introduced puréed foods. I harvested squash last week and used one solely for baby food. I’ve also made a spinach and pea purée from the garden– pulse in the food processor- voilà! He eats solids once a day– usually in the morning– and despite the introduction of real food, he has yet to scale back on breast milk. If anything, his nursing frequency has increased– but I also accredit this to an insane growth spurt.
Growth spurt. The biggest to date. In a month, this kiddo teetered on the edge of mobility only to dive in completely. Crawling EVERYWHERE. Getting into EVERYTHING. Grabbing ANYTHING to pull himself to stand. He even takes steps when you hold his hands, so naturally, I don’t hold his hands anymore…
I’m trying so badly to soak up babyhood without falling into that sentimental suck-hole, but these third babies… They grow at lightening speed. Angus was walking at 10 months– I know Otto will be even earlier. These boys, they slay me.
He continues to be the happiest of babies. He smiles constantly– even when he’s fussing, nursing, or sleeping. He thinks his siblings are hilarious. And his playful screech is enough to make me reconsider being “done.”
Also, final verdict on eye color: BROWN!
I love this little ginger boy. I cannot wait to see what next month brings– but please, no walking…