Calvin is three months old today and he is just plain sugar. Calm and happy and easy to deal with and, best of all, healthy as a little horse. I’ve started calling him “Bruiser” because he’s a really solid baby and he’s gotten great at holding his head up and rolling over. Such a little boy. And the hair. I mean, c’mon.
Parenthood the second time around is even better than the first time. I’m more tired and there’s more to do and it’s challenging to not miss Eva’s toddler milestones in the middle of going Round 2 with Calvin, but it really is so much better. Easier. More relaxed. Not that much is terrifying anymore. Not that much is gross. Poop in the hair? No problem. Happens all the time. Breastfeeding in public? Whatever. Don’t even care. House is a wreck? That’s why we have a porch.
Three months. That’s just about how long I was on bed rest to make sure he got here ok. Blink of an eye.