Four months || Eight Days.

14 pounds 9 ounces & 25 1/4 inches long.  

He still won't take a binky or a bottle. We're doing fine with this mostly, & when he's needed food when I haven't been able to feed him (once because I was getting my hair cut, & another because I ate brussel sprouts that made him scream - sad), Mike has used a syringe. In the meantime, he sucks on his index finger quite happily when necessary. 

His pediatrician today referred to him as mellow. He might just be. He rarely fusses (unless tired), wakes up happy & smiling the majority of the time, & is slow to anger (shouldn't we all be). He's pretty flexible with our routine, although I'm fairly diligent about getting him down to sleep in his crib when he needs to. He's tolerant of Q's pokes, & I think that long suffering will end up being one of his greatest qualities. He yelped when he got his shots today, but was happy as could be after a quick snuggle.  

(Meanwhile, his elder brother was yelling Mama! Mama! Mama! MAAAAMA!!! during his shots - probably wondering why on earth I wasn't making them stop whatever they were doing to his little brother.)

He has darker hair than Quinn did at his age - decidedly brown I think, for now, unless the light is hitting it a certain way & then it tricks you into looking blonde for a second. But brown, yes. His eyes - they're blue, & sticking that way for now. That means we're green (me), hazel-ish (Mike), brown (Quinn - he went from green to brown just after his first birthday) & blue for West. I don't remember doing very well on that section of 9th grade biology where we learned about how that all works out. 

He's taking three or four naps a day, depending on how long he snoozes or what our afternoon plans look like (most plans admittedly involve a few-hundred-yard radius from our home). Mostly though, it's three - a few hours in the morning, a few hours in the early afternoon, & a shorter nap before dinner & bath time. He still likes to be swaddled, although his arms always break free at some point. Quinn is typically at my feet as I put him to bed & always wants to help me sing him a song (we're using the same lullaby we've sung to Q daily for two years). He's in bed for the night by 6:30 or 7pm, up around 4 to nurse, & then sleeps until 7 or 8. He's slept all the way through a few times, but we're not quite there yet consistently & I'm not forcing the issue. I'll take it.

He giggles when I kiss his belly button or his chin. Sometimes when he smiles, his eyes disappear. Quinn frequently looks at him & says cheeks!! while pinching his own.

(I'm so excited for them to really become friends.)

He's in that wonderful / absolutely terrible phase where he's only pooping about once a week. Hooray for the miracle & efficiency of breast milk (it's not constipation)! I say this because there was a real fear I remember being in my heart with Quinn once we would hit day six or seven, & it has returned. You know what's coming, & you really want to be home when it hits. I remember talking to friend Emma about what to do with Quinn once because it had been far too long & we were getting on an airplane (!!). We won't start solids for several more months, so in the meantime, I'll always have a spare outfit in my diaper bag just in case (we've been lucky so far).

(It's amazing how often I talk about poo now that I'm a mother.)

I think he looks a lot like my dad. And me too sometimes, & of course like Mike.

West woke up from his afternoon nap yesterday & I yelled for Mike to grab my camera as I was feeding him. The light in his nursery was perfect, & he was mellow & cooperative with a full tummy.