Asher is turning out to be quite a character.
He’s jolly and fat and extremely mild-mannered. He is growing so quickly. Everywhere he goes he is met with exclamations such as “My, what a chubby baby you are!” and “Oh my God. Look at those cheeks!” Fortunately, he is not nearly as sensitive to these remarks as I am when people comment on the size and shape of my body.
He’s getting sturdier all the time, too. So now he’s really huggable. This naturally leads to nicknames such as pumpkin, blumpkin (Ian came up with that one), teddy bear, and bear cub.
Although Lucas is often too loud, too fast, and too in-your-face for Asher’s comfort, nevertheless, Asher often responds to Lucas’s antics with smiles and drooly grins. Lucas is always gentle when touching Asher, but sometimes doesn’t realize just how much of his 5-year-old weight he’s leaning on the baby. He is learning how to turn down the volume and move a little more slowly around Asher.
Asher’s head is covered in blond fuzz now. Eyes are still dark blue. At first I expected them to turn brown, but now I’m not sure that they will. We will have to wait several more months before we can be certain of their final color.
When he was born, Asher’s hands were long and lean. He had the most graceful fingers I’ve ever seen on a baby. Now his hands are plump little paws. Where he used to have delicate bumpy knuckles, he now has dimples lined up in a row. His hands are more often open to the world, which is a sign of the physical and emotional unfolding that newborns do. He can now hold a small toy if you place it in his grip, but he usually drops it after a moment. Sometimes the toy makes it into his mouth. More often, his thumb and index finger are found there. When he sucks on them he makes the loudest kissy smacks.
So far, Asher’s favorite toy is mommy or daddy’s fingers. He watches them move, tries to capture them in his grip, and gnaws on them whenever possible. In a pinch, my pinkie finger makes an excellent substitute for the pacifier.
Asher has not yet discovered his own toes, but he probably will in the next month or so. He does get a funny look on his face when I tickle his feet or play “piggies” with his toes.
Fuss O’Clock (between 6 p.m. and 8 p.m.) is getting easier. We’ve learned some techniques that help him cope during this time. As much as possible we try to help him sleep at least some of those two hours. He likes being in the sling or carried; whatever you do, don’t set him down and expect him to stay content in the evening. That works fine at other times, but not during “Happy Hour.” For this reason, I almost never even try to make dinner, but instead wait until Ian comes home from work at around 6. It is possible to go out during this time. Somehow, a change of scenery can sometimes stave off a meltdown. As I’ve said before, this is all relatively easy to cope with given how content he his most of the rest of the time.
