Tuesday, October 29, 2013
There is a very good chance Mitch will use a pacifier. He nurses like a champ, and at over 12lbs, I believe he ranks as my largest 1 month old to date. Curtis being a very, very close second. I'm packing away the newborn/0 to 3 month clothes and finishing out this last box of Size 1 Swaddlers. The "one month" onesie that fit George perfectly, may have been cutting off all circulation to Mitchell's arms. In an effort to demonstrate just how big this 'little boy' appears, I'll mentions an incident from the other day. A co-worker's husband, who happened to be standing nearby as Matt shot the one month photos, asked, "How old is he?" To which, Matt replied, "Is that a joke?" The guy just kind of laughed, and said "Oh yeah! I'm pretty sure my daughter wasn't even that big at four months." I've said it before and I'll say it again, I don't put too much stock in a newborn's size. In fact, George proves it to absolutely make no difference in the kid's final size. He was my largest at birth by a pound, and at a year and a half is my smallest on the charts. But it makes me a little sad that most of my newborn clothing has been worn only 4 times (once by each child) before it gets packed away, mostly because this is an obvious indicator of growth, time and maturity.
All I do know about Mitch, is that I love him as much as the other three. From the moment I saw that face. It hit me hard. Maybe the routine of it all, the pregnancy the same, the delivery the same, all of it the same as three times before. Maybe that made me forget that despite the monotony of the whole child creating process, there is NO monotony to each individual child. They come out completely, and utterly they're own person. They do not dip into my love pool, but expand it, infinitely. Mitch does nothing but make my days brighter (ok, and busier). He makes me relax, and smile, and appreciate my husband, children, family, friends, and life.
His brother's LOVE him. If Curtis does not know where I have lain the baby, he always asks. He must know where his brother is at all times. He tells everyone about "Baby Mitch" and introduces him to his teachers, strangers at the park or anyone he can whenever the opportunity arrises. Brock consistently gazes into Mitch's eyes and remarks "he's so cute." George gives him the same sloppy, sticky, slobbering kisses he affords us, and frequently this lands in poor Mitchell's eye. The three older brothers seem totally aware and even excited that their family has changed permanently and is a group of 6 now. Matt has already begun with the nicknaming...and what I mean by that is, he enjoys replacing most expletives that normally contain the word for a female dog, with 'Mitch'. I.E. Son of a Mitch. Or Mitch's be trippin'. Or Mitch, paleeeese!
What I'm trying to say, is at one month, Mitch has become a vital member of the family. We are all settled and couldn't be happier. Thanks to my Mitch for making our family even more complete and vibrant. We love you, man.