Briggs had a hard time falling asleep. I knew he wasn’t feel well, so I entered his room, scooped him out of his crib and cradled him in the corner chair in his room. We both worked to get comfortable in the chair. He laid on my chest as I slouched to rest my head on the back of the chair.
Briggs turned his head from the left side, to the right and back to the left over and over again. His wiggles slowed – he was awake, but still. I had one hand holding the back of his head and the other hand rubbing his back slowly.
He suddenly seemed really long; his head was on my shoulders and his feet were digging into my legs. He didn’t curl up the way he once had. Instead his legs dangled. As I was mentally lamenting his size, my back rubbing hand had stopped and my hand on his head started to massage.
I gently pulled the curls on the back of his head. His hair is getting long. I want to cut it, but part of me only wants to cut the top so I can keep his baby curls. The minute I cut his hair, he really won’t look like a baby – then again as I snuggled up to him, he didn’t feel like a baby. Not anymore. So maybe a haircut to match wouldn’t be so bad.
He’s lovable and kissable and he’s doing this squinty eye thing that has us all laughing. And with three more teeth popping through on top, he’s not getting a whole lot of sleep these days – which makes him an angry elf much of the time. And even as an angry elf he’s still kissable.
48 weeks and he’s left the country! He slept, he ate, he cried, he crawled through the sand. That is living it up in the baby world. We were nervous to have him sleeping in our room since he hasn’t been sleeping well lately. Luckily, the closet was just large enough to fit a port-a-crib. It was dark, it was quiet and he slept like a champ the whole time we were there. And he’s cutting two upper teeth. Bring on the tacos!
Those high pitch squeals are real pleasant during our family dinners. Other times I can usually tune them out, but not at dinner. It’s his way of saying… Gimme, Gimme. I need, I need. Give him more food!
Although the rest of the kids enjoyed our impromptu trip up north to find snow – Briggs did not. At all. Perhaps it was the snow pants. Or the boots. Or the hat. Its hard to say what it was exactly, but he cried the majority of the time. We tried setting him on the sled. We tried putting him in the carseat. Unfortunately – he was happiest being held. Clearly, he was made for Arizona!