moving mush

Connor had his second pediatrician appointment yesterday and is growing well, even exceeding the doctor’s expectations in the weight department. He got his first vaccination and handled it like a champ, a brief dignified cry and a quick recovery when I picked him up to snuggle him.

I hesitate to talk about nursing here mostly because I worry it might embarrass Uncle Marc, but he is doing so well. There were a handful of tough uncomfortable days for me and lots of pumping for 60 seconds into the sink or in the shower, but my supply seems to be regulating itself and just today he is back to eating 15 minutes on each side which considering my past nursing experience with crazy oversupply is a minor miracle. He’s seems to be tolerating his meals well, minor occasional spitting up episodes, and is such a big boy that he doesn’t want any help at all.

A realtor came by yesterday to preview the house for some clients she is working with and it piggybacked his pedi appointment. I rushed around the house picking things up, turning on the heat in the basement, running a load of laundry, and putting the pack n’ play away in the closet. As we got ready for bed last night we realized that the pack n’ play was still in the closet and instead of setting it back up in our room we decided to try him in the crib. Caroline was in her crib (in the moses basket) at about this same point, but something about having him in a different room made me a much sadder this time. Perhaps there was a touch of laziness too in not having him at my fingertips for his middle of the night meals. I understand that he might be the last little baby to spend time in a pack n’ play in our room and there is just something so tear-inducing about him being more than three steps from my reach. The pack n’ play will continue to get lots of use, just perhaps not as his evening sleeping quarters. In fact, I envision it being a great way to keep the kids separated once he gets a bit older. So Connor is in his own room and wouldn’t you know that he chose last night to up his meals from two to three. Go figure.

I’m certainly keeping myself busy at home between feeding and snuggling Connor, keeping up with my own calories, remembering to drink water, packing boxes of toys/ clothes/books/anything we don’t expressly NEED, setting up the kids with a new pediatrician because they will both need appointments the moment we move, keeping the house “show ready,” all while trying to bask in Con’s newness and take a million photos of his perfect little face.

Like these.

Caroline had a moment this morning, the first one really since we told her we are moving. She looked at me with those beautiful brown eyes and asked for Dusty, her vacuum. I told her he was already in Boston waiting for us and those eyes pooled over and streams of tears fell down to her chin. I held her in my lap, told her that moving is hard work, but that Dusty was waiting for her already on the other side and she would see him soon. I was able to distract her with a brown sugar pop tart, but I was not so easily distracted. I’ve been thinking a lot about it today; how she will handle the actual moving process. All the goodbyes; Her room, school friends, teachers, neighbors, everything she’s ever known. I think of all my own goodbyes too; the first room that was 100% hers, the backyard where I sat with her on the hammock that first summer swaying in sun, the family room where she took her first steps, the kitchen where we together have mixed up countless confections, the windows she watched her first New England snow storm through, her big girl room, our bedroom where we spent countless hours snuggling together under a special blanket watching silly movies or the Backyardigans Castaway episode from the DVR, the tub where she “swims like a fishy” after fighting tooth and nail to NOT TAKE A TUB. I think I’m going to need her as much as she will need me to get through all the goodbyes.

Now back to packing and that handsome boy.


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