Three months


My little Fiendling was three months old yesterday. He wears overalls now, not just baby suits with feet.

He’s grown up so much in the past week. It’s incredible how quickly he learns how to do new things. All of a sudden he discovered that not only does he have hands, but those hands can grab and hold things. He went from flailing to grabbing in the space of a day and now he’s fascinated by his toys instead of just mildly amused.

I love that he holds things and plays with them now instead of just staring at them. It’s hard work, but he’s learning how to coordinate his hands and feet to shove his toys in his mouth.

naked baby

He was so little when we brought him home. Scrawny. He screamed from hunger before my milk came in and we were exhausted and scared. I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to feed my baby and terrified I’d never sleep again. Now look at him.

He’s such a little meatball, all pudgy and delicious. He has dimples on his hands and his elbows and michelin man thighs. And he eats so much he sleeps. For six, seven or eight hours in a row. He’s sturdy now. A real boy. My Fiendling’s a baby, not a newborn.

I am so happy.

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