It’s been 5 months since I looked at Tristan and loved him.
He is a jewel, a delight, a dream baby. He sleeps in our bed (well, sometimes he sleeps) and wakes us up with his gummy smile and his baby babble. This last month, we’ve settled into a lot of routines, with a trip to Texas thrown in the mix. I don’t think of his birthparents every day anymore, but still, frequently. People stop me in the store to comment on his eyes and I see his birthmom’s clear blue shining at me.
We’re laughing at ourselves, the MOG and me… parenting at 32 and 33 is very different from the way we parented at 20. We’re not so busy, and it’s not so important to put him down and do something else. When the MOG is home, generally one of us is holding the baby.
Specifics: I don’t know how much he weighs, but I’d guess around 15 lbs. He’s huge for a Clark. He’s thinking about sitting up, and it bugs him to recline in his carseat or chair. He drools constantly, and chews on his fists all day long. So far, no tooth, but it’s gotta be coming.
He spits and laughs and babbles all the time, except when he’s eating, which is also all the time.
Toby and Bean are crazy about him, and demand to help when he takes a bottle or fusses. They love to get up in his face and BELLOW baby talk, which he loves.