Two Months

Dear Brendan,

OK, I do realize you are almost three months old and I haven't even gotten around to blogging about your second month, let alone create a single scrapbook page. Someday Megan will tease you, pointing out that by the time she was two months old I had already completed half her baby book and at least 12 scrapbook pages dedicated to her every gurgle. I apologize in advance for this.


Actually, you are the one that may owe me an apology. You see, you spent your entire second month engaged in the following delightful behavior . . .

morning.

noon.

and night.

Megan took this picture of you.

I must have been off somewhere beating my head against the wall.

Or maybe I was on the phone with GG, begging her to come over.

If I had to chose one word to describe your second month, it would be

COLIC.

I was willing to do anything to get you to stop crying.

Anything.

Including having this guy (the chiropractor) massage you.

He convinced me you were crying because you had muscle tension.

I guess being nursed around the clock, rocked to sleep, and filling your pants every ten minutes is very stressful.

Whatever.

Then I tried this little contraption called the "miracle blanket."

It pretty much wraps you like a baby sausage to help remind you of your time in the womb.

The only miracle involved was that I managed to get this photo of you actually sleeping. A complete miracle

Next, we tried Mylicon Anti-Gas medicine.

Basically, instead of farting 36 times an hour you only farted 35.

I considered that progress.

We also tried 3 different prescriptions from the pediatrician.

They worked about as well as the Mylicon.

The only thing that actually worked was this guy . . .


I played this song for you one day when I felt close to the edge of my sanity.

It reminds me of Caribbean vacations and it just makes me happy.

"Sun tanned toes, tickling the sand.

Cold drink chillin' in my right hand."

Well, guess what, it worked!!!! I played it so loud I couldn't hear you crying anymore.

Just kidding. Seriously, you love Kenny Chesney.

You stop crying almost immediately when I turn this song on. Only this song.

Megan can now recite every word of it.

Now, when you start crying Megan starts singing, "When the sun goes down . . ."

Even if it was a tough month, there wasn't a day I didn't look at you and wonder how I got so lucky.

Happy two months big guy!

I couldn't love you more.

(And I'll get started on those scrapbook pages soon, ok?)

Love,

Mom