Michael is Two Months Old!!

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Originally uploaded by 2XA.

Holy shit. I can't believe the little man is already TWO MONTHS OLD. Seems like just yesterday that I went into the hospital, panted for a few minutes, then came home with a wee one. And now he's almost twice as big, only two months later. Soon enough he's going to be in university.

As I warned you, this is going to be a short post because I don't have all that much to say. So far Michael doesn't do too much. I hope that doesn't mean I'm a bad mother as I really haven't been pushing him very hard. He's not reading yet, doesn't play piano, and certainly doesn't know his animal sounds. Though he does do a dying hyena impression pretty well.

Honestly though, I've been feeling like I haven't been giving Michael enough attention, at least not as much as I gave Emma when she was his age. I've been so concerned with making sure she didn't feel jealous, that I've been totally going overboard to make sure she knows she's loved and is never resentful of his being. The other day - it was actually during a 3am feeding - I had a 'moment' with Mick-New, where I really stopped and just paid attention. I don't know where the past two months have gone, and that made me so sad... but at least I realized it, and am now very focussed on making sure Emma is aware that I have enough love for BOTH my children. Regardless of how many hissy fits she throws. I'd go into more detail - like how she ended up screamng on the floor in the shoe store - but then, this is Michael's update post. Not Emma's.

I should quickly mention that Emma now says Michael "Michael". Perfectly clear. I should really stop calling him Mick-New. But it's hard. It's such a cute name, my little Jewish-Catholic-Indian son.

And now on with the updates...

He loves swinging on the swing. Can hang out there for HOURS. Not that I've ever left him there for HOURS. Well, at least not that often. I mean, if he's fast asleep, who am I to wake him? I know I wouldn't appreciate it if he woke me when I was fast asleep. Oh wait... he does that all the time. I should probably tell him I don't care for that behaviour. Smarten up, little man.

His head is still remarkable strong. He can hold it up beautifully. He can almost push himself up on his arms. He would likely be able to do this already if only he had more playmat time, but unfortunately Emma is turning out to be the world's worst share-er and everytime I lay him down on her little mat she flips. "MINE MINE MINE!!!" or "EMMA'S MAT EMMA'S MAT!!!" Either way, it's ugly. And Michael gets limited mat time. And please, much as I love your comments, don't tell me that I need to talk to her about sharing. I do. All bloody day. Why do you think he's allowed in the swing??? If it weren't for me, she'd have pushed him out by now.

One thing I've really noticed is just how focussed Michael's eyes are. For the first while Emma's eyes seemed to roll around in her head alot, to the point where I was worried she may be a little - how do I say this nicely - retarded. Turns out she's just fine, but perhaps a little selfish at times. At least with Michael. She's fantastic at sharing with Esther. I guess she likes Esther more.

He's very into grabbing onto things - my hands, my hair, my boobs. Just like his father.

Did I mention he's a projectile barfer? Just like his sister. Actually worse. It's all the fucken time. There's no rhyme or reason to when he's gonna blow. Poor kid goes through about 30 bibs a day. It's gotten to the point that I even have him in Emma's old one's some of the time. I smell like vomit all the time. Probably because there is always a little smattering of it on my shoulder. Always. It's not so bad if he eats then immediately tosses it, but if it sits in his stomach too long it comes out chunky. I know it's disgusting to read about. It's even more disgusting to live it. Deal.

He's got a beautiful smile - it's hard to get a picture because once his mouth opens I don't know whether to duck or grab the camera.

He also makes highly explosive shits. To the point where they come all the way out of his diaper and up his back. I mean, I've read about kids that do that... but never, NEVER experienced it. It's ugly. It's yellow. It smells like popcorn.

Because of these ungodly pooh's he gets bathed alot. Fortunately the little guy LOVES the bath. I was going to post this photo and write 'what a ham'. But then I realized that caption will be much better served when I have a photo of him with a ham. Guess we'll have to wait till Easter.

I'm working on getting him more friends, but playgroups don't start until 6 months old, and little Zachary (Esther's soon to be brother) isn't scheduled to arrive till November. That said, this chick is pretty hot. And she's a mover.