So long, fourth trimester. Our little Ali Baba is interacting with the world more and more every day. She looks around, she makes eye contact, and best of all, she’s mastered the shit-eating grin. This is Ali at three months.
Things She Likes (LOVES)
Her play gym. I didn’t want to get her a baby gym, because I’ve never come across one that wasn’t totally hideous. We are still living in a one-bedroom apartment, so we don’t have a ton of space for extra baby stuff.
Against my wishes, my mom decided Ali needed a play gym and bought her one. I was secretly hoping Ali would think the gym was totally stupid and I’d get a little bit of satisfaction in being right, but of course Ali loves that thing. She will happily entertain herself by grabbing the rings dangling from the monkey, or, her favorite, strangling the little giraffe, for an hour or more at a time. Not that this is a surprise at all, but sometimes (often) mama’s mama is the one who knows best.
Cutest Thing She Does
A couple of weeks ago I was flying her around the apartment pretending she was an airplane (more for my own entertainment, really) and she started to laugh. It was the best sound I’ve ever heard. She’s only laughed one other time since then, but I can’t wait to hear those sweet little giggles again soon.
Ali’s Big Adventure This Month
Ali took her first cross-country plane ride and I’d give her performance a solid B+. I got a ton of unsolicited advice about how important it is to feed the baby during take off and landing “for her ears.” As it turned out, she was asleep on the way up and alert, happy, and not hungry on the way down, so feeding didn’t happen and it wasn’t a thing. She cried a couple of times on the six hour journey, mostly when she was tired and I was trying to rock/bounce her while staying seated, but she was never loud enough for anyone more than a couple rows away to hear. I’d call that a win.
The mom phase. It’s both flattering and hugely limiting, wonderful and awful.
When Ali and I are together, we have an awesome rhythm. I usually know what she needs before she does, and she rarely cries. We get out of the house a ton together, and she’s happy out at restaurants, parties, the climbing gym… just about anywhere. But god forbid I go somewhere without Ali.
I only leave her with people who love her and care for her just as well as I do– her dad or grandparents– but man, does she lose it. It breaks my heart to hear her wail (like the red-faced, tears streaming, bleating goat sort of cry) when I’m certain I have just the cure to soothe her, but sometimes mama needs an hour or two away from baby to reset and feel human again.
Things I’ve Changed My Mind About
Pink. Before Ali was born, I was openly hostile toward anything approaching pink. Then we started receiving gifts for our baby girl, and lo and behold, many of them were pink. My hostility softened into quiet disapproval and I instated Pink Wednesdays so Ali could wear all of her pink gifts. (“On Wednesdays we wear pink!“) My quiet disapproval softened a little more as I discovered that Ali actually looks totally fucking adorable in pink. I still haven’t purposefully purchased anything pink for Ali, but I’ve gotta say, even that silly self-imposed rule is bound to be broken soon.
Bows. Similar story. When we’re out in public in San Francisco, people are very careful about gender. Rather than assuming the baby is a he or a she, they say things like, “your baby is so sweet” or “how old is your baby?” Then they wait to see which pronoun we use in our response before proceeding to use it themselves. Outside of San Francisco, that’s rarely the case. Because we dress Ali in a lot of blue (and monster/rocket ship patterns), people tend to assume she’s a boy. So instead of correcting people, I just plop a bow on her head to make things easier for everyone.
The Question Everyone Asks: Is she sleeping through the night?
Thank all the sleep gods in valhalla, YES! Ali started sleeping through the night around seven weeks, and these days, she sleeps ten hour nights on the regular. She tends to go down around 8pm, sleep ’til about 6am, eat, then nap for another couple hours before starting the day. It’s glorious. Every once in a while something will throw off her schedule and she’ll wake up in the night or a few hours early around 4am and I wonder how I ever managed to get up to feed her every 2-3 hours in those first few weeks. It feels like getting hit by a double decker bus, which only goes to show those postpartum hormones are basically magic and should come in pill form to cure just about everything.