Growing // At six weeks of age, Eisley was 12 pounds, 3 oz. She is pretty huge, but not quite as big as Z at this age. I can’t keep track of her other measurements (third child problems), but I know she is off-the-charts tall and around 95th percentile for weight and head circumference.
Eating // Unless my memory is just hazy with the other two, Eisley is my fussiest eater… lots of pulling on and off while nursing, milk spraying everywhere, and some crying in the mix. She also decided a few weeks ago that she hates the bottle. I have not been consistent about giving her a bottle very often, since I’m home for the summer, but when we were moving the past two weeks, both grandmas came into town to help us. Eisley tried to refuse the bottle completely at first, but now we can get her take one “under extreme protest” as my mom described it the other day.
Wearing // Eisley is comfortably wearing six month clothing. We are in that sweet, short window where they are not too big and not getting too small.
Doing //Eisley nurses every 2-2 1/2 hours by day and is consistently sleeping about seven hours at night (10ish-5ish). Her naps are super inconsistent, mostly the horrible 20-40 minute kind with the occasional 2-hour “conk out” in the mix. She survived our move and is still sleeping in the Pack ‘N’ Play in our room. I would like to get her out of our room and into the crib, but we are still figuring out sleeping arrangements at our new place. Talitha is still in the crib, but might graduate to a bunk bed or a trundle/daybed with her big sis soon. During the move, we got out the play mat, and Eisley loves looking at the mirror, the hanging animals, and the ceiling fan nearby. She still loves going for walk in the Solly and is now big enough to go in the Ergo too. She smiles and coos now, which is super fun, and I’m hoping she starts giggling in the next month or so.
Loving // Baths, being swaddled, taking naps in fuzzy blankets on the couch, being held, having her butt patted, hearing the word “hi” in a high pitched voice, her play mat
Tolerating// The car seat (slightly more than last month)
Loathing // The bottle
Mishaps // We walked to a nearby park in our new neighborhood the other day. It’s been in the mid-80s here, which is pretty hot for our coastal area, and Eisley got a sunburn! Her right cheek, a tiny patch on her neck, and the top of her right shoulder got slightly red where they were peeking out of the Solly Wrap. I didn’t realize the new park had very little shade, and I didn’t even think to apply sunscreen to her sensitive baby skin. Lesson learned!
Milestones // Slept until 6:15 one morning (although 5:15 wake-ups are still the norm), went to a baby shower, tried out the stroller and the Ergo, moved to a new house, met some of mommy’s best friends (Sar-Bear and Stace-Face)
As a firstborn, I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be a third child… and the third of three girls, no less. Life is swirl of chaos all around you – snacks and shows, discipline and dancing, tutus and tantrums. You take it all in so calmly. You don’t even flinch when your two year-old sister smashes her forehead into yours. It’s affection. But it must be uncomfortable at times.
And sometimes I leave you hanging. In your crib. In the bouncer. You want to be held, but I have no hands. I am juggling breakfasts and diaper changes and you start to whimper. “Hold on, Eisley!” I say, with a hint of desperation in my voice.
This boisterous sisterhood is all you’ll ever know. You will grow up adaptable – willing to share or ready to fight for what you want. It won’t be calm. It won’t be quiet. You’ll probably share a room for the next 15 years, at least.
But someday these older sisters will move out… onto the next adventure. And it will be just a little bit quieter. And a little bit calmer. You won’t need me then, like you do now, but I hope you’ll let me make these days up to you. Maybe we’ll go shopping or grab coffee or whatever it is you like to do. We can pretend you’re my only child for just a few hours.
But when our special day is done, I think we’ll both realize that the loud, full house you grew up in shaped you in all the best ways. I hope you’ll always say that having sisters made you kind, that sharing a room made you humble, and that watching your mom raise a bunch of girls taught you about beauty, strength, and grace.
You are two. A year ago you were just a baby, and now you are a little girl who runs around and speaks in complete sentences.
“I fall down.”
“I a baby daughter.”
“Juice, pleeeeease, mommy.”
“I dry!” (With a grin, when your diaper is clearly wet.)
My favorite things about you are all the ways you are different than me. I like books and writing and being inside. You like to run and climb and be outside. I am serious and disciplined as I move through my day. You are cheerful and silly from morning to night. I can be clumsy. You are smooth and coordinated. You catch yourself gracefully when you slip, when I would fall on my face. I don’t have a shy bone in my body. You are quiet in crowds. I just learned from your teachers that you haven’t talked in your classroom for the past six months, even though you love school and run through the doors with glee each day.
I love that we are so different, because every day with you is a grand adventure. You teach me to laugh more. To slow down (when we are building with blocks). To speed up (when we are racing around the house). You teach me to be tender with your still-chubby baby cheeks and big-girl grin.
Here’s to so many more years of you teaching me new things. To be active. To be silly. To be joyful. Just like you.