This handsome fella is three whole months old today! Where oh where has the time gone?? He’s just plugging right along, being the sweetest most undemanding little boy while other, unspecified siblings command all mommy’s attention. I just love my little man more than I know how to put into words and I know I say this every month, but I’m just so blessed to get to be these babies momma. So, this month:

Miracles happened! I put this child down, and…….. there was silence! Cooing even! which is even better than silence! It was like a different baby appeared and I will forever love that fussy boy of last month but my my my… having several seconds of my own arms back makes such a tremendous difference.

I still think this poor babe has some sad tummy issues because there is always a reason he’s fussing. I’ll either pick him up and he’ll immediately soak us both or the GIANT *dry* (thank the heavens) burp will come forth or something. I know he’s trying to communicate in the only way he knows how so let’s celebrate the little things shall we? This month, I rarely (if ever? can it be??) woke up in a giant puddle of wet. SO although the spitting up is nowhere near being done, it has gotten incrementally better! And for that I am so so happy. If you don’t have a baby that spits up, allow me to explain. We are not talking about a small dribble here or there. I’m talking full on wardrobe change for all parties several times throughout the day. Unless you like sitting in sour, wet drenched clothes, which I’ve actually come to terms with after having not one, but two babies that love to give back to the community at an early age. Yesterday he went through six outfits. Some days, he wants to be held all day so into his baby carrier he goes, shuffling around the house with mommy as I attempt to bring order to the chaos. Every time I bend over to pick something up, I’ll hear *SPLAT* and sure enough giant puddles are all over the floor. Some days, Bentley likes to join in and starts puking all over the house too. You just have to smile because COME ON. It’s like everyone got into that bottle of ipecac we don’t have and someone’s going to jump out of the closet and tell me I’m on candid camera. Sometimes. I think that’s by far the hardest thing for me, but baby Luke… you are so worth every single piece of ruined clothing. I’ll hold back your hair foreverandever sweet boy :)

BECAUSE under all that regurgitated milk is a boy with the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen! I’m not kidding when I say it melts me. I literally have to close my eyes – I can’t take all that cuteness in! They’re biggest first thing in the morning and that goodness usually will get me through a good portion of the day :) BABY SMILES. I wish they never had to go.

He loves to have your full attention in a very non demanding way… he just sort of lights up when you lock onto him and he’ll talk and smile and smile and smile and I don’t know why I don’t just spend the majority of my day looking at him. Stupid never ending chores.

He loves to be held. He will cry and cry and cry and as soon as you pick him up, he’ll be out. Like, that was all I wanted! OR if he gets really worked up, once you pick him up, he’ll let out the saddest but sweetest final cry of exhaustion and be so content immediately. He’s just the best. Sometimes I look around at the little messes that seem to be breeding all over my house, and think, I COULD CLEAN THIS SO FAST if I just had both my arms and no one strapped to me! but everyone says it- this baby time… it goes by so freakin fast and that little cry of happiness to finally be in momma’s arms… I hope I can always hear it in my head because it’s just the best.

Umm, this kid is tolerant. Abbie’s foot comes into contact with his face multiple times a day. Not in a kicking way… more of the easiest way to go around brother is obviously over him sort of way. He just keeps minding his own business, looking around at the giant human flailing herself through the air above him. Seriously to say he’s tolerant is a big understatement.But then there’s the witching hour. I never knew what people were talking about when Abbie was a baby. But now… well it’s just amazing the difference between 7 and 7:15. One day Greg said he was going to be home at 7:15. I try to do my best to make a happy home for him to come home to – I like having all the candles lit (we go through a lot of candles), dinner made, and the house in a semi decent state etc so I’m busy trying to get dinner on the table (let’s not forget how much my kitchen and I don’t get along) and Abbie, now realizing she too can contribute to said hour, starts to scream at the top of her lungs and fling herself onto the floor, Luke starts screaming and kicking in his little carrier but no no no does NOT want to be put down DON’T YOU DARE PUT ME DOWN and my mind is trying to read some recipe and not burn all the things, just counting down the seconds till Greg is home. 7:15 comes. No Greg. I figure any minute any minute! And try to calm the babies before he walks through the door. After all, the house was so so peaceful just moments before! Finally I decide to just sit on the floor while something is sautéing and hold these needy babies of mine till he comes home. 7:20…7:25… they are escalating…. I try calling him but it goes straight to voicemail… look on find my friends and no location can be found. Now I start thinking, oh you know, he’s dead and this is my life now.. .but not really, I just get mad that everything is spinning out of control and YOU SAID 7:15! So I put the food in the warming drawer and pull on it in a less than graceful way, that old drawer shoots out and slams my finger against the butcher block which hurt so curse words bad… naturally I start crying, both kids are screaming and my beloved walks through the door. He looks around at his sobbing family and asks, what happened? in the way only these sweet men are capable of, and I sob, YOU’RE LATE. So yes, those 15 minutes make all the difference ;) This happens on a pretty regular basis these days ;) lots of slamming cabinets and such. Turns out the witching hour is more me than them! haha I think by that time my tolerance level is at an all time low so thank the Lord for husbands. Thank. The. Lord.

MOVING ON he loves diaper changes. He’ll be so sad and as soon as I start the changing process, he calms right down. It’s fun to figure out all his special quirks ;)  Running in place is another one. Greg will say, I’VE TRIED EVERYTHING HE WON’T STOP CRYING to which I always ask if he tried running in place. Works every time. He’s helping me lose my baby weight and my mind simultaneously.

I’m making him sound so high maintenance ;) and now that I think about it… maybe he is? But when his tummy isn’t hurting and therefore isn’t fussing or spitting up copious amounts of sour liquid, he’s just the SWEETEST boy I’ve ever met! Just loves looking around, enjoying life. AND a couple nights ago he slept a full 8 hours at night so points there. We sure love you, Luke! Happy three months baby boy :)