Tuesday, 7 July 2009

Possum Magic

He follows me with his eyes and knows who I am.
He keeps his knees up to his chest almost all the time like a little frog and loves nothing more than being possumed up against a warm and willing chest.
He has downy hair like a new duckling in a honey brown colour that flames red in the sun.
He has a pointy little chin and looks like a goblin.
He still has ear fuzz.
His arms are long and when we bathe him he is all arms and legs and his massive head.
He has a long neck, he likes to sleep with his neck extended, his head flopped in the most uncomfortable positions.
He has long feet and adorable toes. I like to kiss and nuzzle them guiltily when they're not wrapped up out of sight to keep him warm.
He likes it when I sing to him or read.
He looks adorable with his jeans and jumper on. I love dressing him.
He loves his bath.
He loves bubbles and squashes them wonderingly in his hand.
He screams when we take him out of the bath, his face contorted into outraged tearfulness.
He cries with real tears that course down his soft cheeks and crack my heart.
He makes an "ooh" sound when he poos, his mouth a perfect little o.
He still makes kitten noises when he nuzzles for boob.
He loves my scent and stops crying whenever I pick him up.
He digs his toes into the squishiness of my belly as we cosleep.
He sighs in his sleep.
He has blonde eyelashes.
He still smells like a baby, but not a newborn any more. Milky sweetness mixed with lavendar and chamomile instead of that newborn mustiness.
He loves his pram.
He gets angry when I give him his dummy when we wants boob. His bottom lip pouts and trembles and he arches his back.
He spits his dummy for entertainment, he loves the game.
He loves shopping centres and lights and noise.
He tolerates the exuberant affection of his sisters.
He is not interested in toys.
He squeaks when he feeds.
He still has a stuffy nose from his cold 3 weeks ago and snorts when feeding sometimes.
He has outgrown his newborn sized nappies this week.
His eyes are navy blue.
He yawns a lot. I think it is cute and I get a rush of oxytocin just thinking of it.
He is growing every day.
He is 4.2kg today, 55.5cm and a 58.5cm head.
He fits all his 000 clothes.
He wasn't the tiniest baby at the shops today, I had to stifle a sob.
He watches me as I change him, his eyes crinkle up and his mouth dimples at the corners as his whole face lights up with a smile.

I cry. And fall in love again.

2 comments:

Pundelina said...

Awww, I'm all goosebumply reading that. And has added to my cluckiness.

:o)

Kirsten said...

Damn you. My Baby is turning 2 in 10 days and I am desperately trying to keep my ovaries in check, then I go and read something like this.

The possom sounds devine, just beautiful.

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