They All Know Better

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If you'd ask me, I'd say we pretty much know what we're doing. Greg and I pondered for over a year about this decision of having a third child. We took it very seriously, and got full consensus agreement within the family (us and the two kids) on whether this is the right thing to do. The cat didn't get a vote.

A year later, I can thoroughly say it was indeed the right decision: our family feels complete and happy and wonderful! Thank you, Fae for making it so!

The wiggles and giggles and smiles and adventures are all upon us, from morning till night.

At 7am, whichever combination of two-out-of-three kids is awake first, they're together smiling and holding hands. Usually one is pulling another's hair, or trying to munch on their thumbs.

Yesterday I returned from the restroom to find the children victoriously showing me Fae's sleep sack, that they had just taken off of her all by themselves!

Gaius made a special chant for her:
Little Fae,
Little Fae,
Little cutie kickers Fae!
which often escalates by replacing kickers with wiggles or some other fun thing that she's doing at the time.

They are the most careful about giving her safe toys, and run to her to help out whenever she's upset. They even make special spaces for her to play in!
Now on the eve of her fifth month of life, it turns out they are all experts at caring for Baby. Tonight, Gaius tells Greg who was dressing a slightly fussy Fae for nighttime at the corner of the bed: She's crying because she's too close to the edge! He was kinda right, honestly, but don't tell Greg that...

But twenty minutes later our dear baby declared a new Growth Spurt, which means she will be asking me for more milk repeatedly for the entire night. Thus, I got a rare share of crying at bedtime because I apparently am no longer providing her sufficient sustenance. I could probably take the judgement from Fae, who's directly affected by this new state (really, this happens roughly every two weeks, so not that "new" after all).

Yet what was really surprising was the forum of experts that decided to chime in, in the course of a mere twenty minutes:

  • Fae loudly fussing at me, all concerned with the lack of milk, while I try any nursing position I can think of, just in case. She makes sure she gets right close to my ear, so that I'm definitely hearing it.
  • Willow helpfully coming near me to tell me the baby is crying, then gently applying multiple "love bites" on my shoulder (those canines are sharp!) to tell me I need to do something to help Fae. It honestly did help, because I got up taking her up in my arms and the change of state quieted her down for about 5 minutes. Then she remembered her tragedy again.
  • Willow meowing supportively at me and at Fae until Fae just starts calmly "talking" back to the cat. Probably discussing the situation. And resuming her fussy complaints again, even while I try to nurse her once more.
  • Greg walking in after 12 minutes and suavely asking: Has this baby been nursed at all?
  • Gaius declaring: Mommy should drink water.
  • Mara thoughtfully proposing: I think you should go downstairs and eat some more food so you can make milk for her.

Yes, you're all the best kind of correct.
Now let me put this baby to bed. 


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