My Sweet Nico,

A scene: we are at the doctor’s office for your six-month well check, and together we’re perched on the examination table as we await the dreaded poke that is headed for your thigh. Kali and Sully are sitting in chairs next to the table, eyes widened at the sight of the loaded needle in the nurse’s hand. The nurse moves swiftly, and it’s not until she’s affixing a bandage to your meaty leg that your own eyes widen and you unlatch from my breast long enough to let out an ear-piercing shriek. Barely audible beneath the sound of your shattering cries is the clinking of two rattles being shaken vigorously by your concerned siblings. They desperately want to give you comfort from where they remain seated, bottoms plastered to their chairs, fear and sadness written across their faces as they witness your pain. Your cries continue after the nurse has vacated the room, and within moments of her exit the twins have broken out into Jesus Loves Me, belting out the lyrics while shaking their little rattles with everything in them in hopes that you might hear their attempts at comfort and experience some relief.

Another scene: we’re all gathered around the dinner table, you strapped into your Bumbo seat atop a chair that’s pulled up next to mine. Charleston is to my side, and he has my phone’s camera fixed on your eager face, ready to capture your expression as I feed you your first bite of solid food. Charleston narrates and Kali and Sully cheer as I maneuver the spoonful of mashed bananas to your lips and gently tap your mouth, prompting it to open. The face you give me is one of shock and skepticism—“What on earth are you doing?” you seem to say—but eventually your mouth opens. The bananas enter, and then are promptly spit back out as you sputter and grimace. These bananas are NOT for you. Your siblings howl in laughter at your expressions, then alternate between words of persuasion (“try it again, these bananas are so good!”) and understanding (“it’s okay, I don’t like bananas all the time either”) and encouragement (“that was so good Nico, I think we can take an even bigger bite!”).

Your status as the youngest of four children will one day be nothing more than a footnote to the grand story of your life, but now it is everything. Your siblings are there to witness your milestones, soothe your tears, encourage you in each new development, play with you, make you giggle and smile, and explain all the things you don’t yet understand. Kali’s elaborate songs and dances are your favorite form of entertainment; you and Charleston are great couch buddies (he never gets frazzled when you cry while he holds you, and he can usually calm you down); and you’ve hardly gone a car ride without Sully (your seat mate) hanging onto your tiny ear (whether for your comfort or for his, we can’t be sure). Your big siblings love passing on knowledge and chatting with you about their own memories from when you were younger. They enjoy having you along with us for school times and meal times and outings, never complaining that your presence makes us move more slowly and occupies much of my attention. To them, you are a welcome and unquestioned part of our full family life. To you, they are simply a part of the only world you’ve ever known.

There are also less obvious parts of your youngest-child status. You’re exposed to things much sooner than the others, and our life does not revolve entirely around you. (See: your lack of a nursery, the fact that you’ve been read more chapter books than board books, and the reality that you sit ringside at gymnastics classes instead of attending mommy-and-me classes with other babies your age.) Your siblings were my guinea pigs, and you benefit from my mothering experience and from my awareness of how fleeting these baby days will be. I’m more sentimental about you than with any of the others, more appreciative of every sweet moment and milestone, less fearful when milestones are slow to come. I’m also more tired, and my time and attention are more fractured. I’m trying harder than ever to remain present with you, and that isn’t always possible. But there are upsides and downsides to every position in a family and I hope that the good manages to outweigh the bad for all of you. Though some aspects of your infancy will inevitably fall through the cracks of our busy family life, I remain determined for you to receive just as much attention, love, and recognition as your older siblings. Hence your updated baby book and the endless pictures and cuddle time and these letters, that can feel tedious after doing this twice before. Determination and discipline are two traits I carry in droves, so onward we march.

It was a huge month for you developmentally, and for the first time you no longer seem like a brand-new baby. We started solid foods with you a couple days after you turned six months old, and you were slow to warm to the idea of eating from a spoon. It wasn’t until one week and several attempts later that you were willingly opening your mouth to be fed, but now that you know what’s happening you seem to enjoy eating. We haven’t attempted too many foods just yet; rice cereal cooked in breast milk was NOT a hit (you literally coughed and spit and then vomited after the cereal had barely grazed your lips) but you really like mashed banana, and applesauce is always a sure win. You’re a sloppy, messy eater, leaning into each bite and sometimes spitting out the food before sticking your tongue out to try to retrieve the lost bite. You still prefer milkies to solids, and we end every meal with you seeking comfort from the breast, but I think we are off to a good start with food. It’s been so fun to have you join us at the table in the high chair, in which your little body looks comically small. (For their part, the twins love that you occupy one of our two high chairs which means that one of them always gets to sit in a big kid chair. . . though we do need to get another dining chair, so that Kali and Sully can both graduate from the highchairs for good.)

Another big development this month is that you’ve started rolling over! Dr. Spence was a little concerned at your six-month appointment that you hadn’t crossed this milestone, and I had to explain that you never want to be put down for long enough to try. But on the doctor’s recommendation, we set out to “teach” you this skill. We would gather around you on the floor and place toys to your side and slightly out of reach, and just last weekend you finally figured it out. By that evening you were rolling around the floor of the twins’ room, not stopping until you got caught beneath their bed. What a game-changer this development has been! Of course there are some new challenges: we have to be careful when you’re on the changing table or bed, and baby proofing has to be in place. But you are now SO MUCH HAPPIER when I set you down on the floor. Last week you were content to hang out with the big kids (who were introducing you to your Duplo blocks) for almost thirty minutes while I folded laundry in the next room. It was strange to be doing this task without you strapped to my chest, but what a relief to know that for once you were happy while I wasn’t present.

Your rolling over isn’t the only developmental change. You continue to grab for and put things into your mouth, and are more intentional about this than before. You like standing with support and can almost sit on your own. When on your tummy, you are moving your legs and pushing like you want to crawl. That may be coming soon! You babble and coo and I’m pretty sure you recognize your name.

You’re laughing and smiling so much more these days, and the improvement to your moods have been such a welcome change. You still cry any time we attempt to leave you by yourself, but are generally happy when being entertained by your siblings or being worn or held by Daddy or me. Sometimes you even like hanging out with us in your Bumbo seat. (That doesn’t last long, then it’s back to the carriers, but it’s a start.) We had a visit from Oma and Opa this month and you loved hanging out with them, and you’re now happy to be passed around to Grandma and Grandpa and Tía Amanda when we’re with Daddy’s side of the family; I think everyone is glad that it’s no longer just our immediate family who gets to experience a content Nico.

While Oma and Opa were visiting, I was able to take you to your first baby storytime while they hung out with the big kids. That’s one of the things I loved doing with Charleston and didn’t get to experience with the twins (two little babies was too hard, and just when they were old enough to bring together, Covid shut storytime down and it didn’t start back up until they’d aged out). It was fun to be gathered with dozens of other moms and babies of all shapes and sizes. I rarely think about how small you are compared to other babies your age, and that was certainly apparent in this setting. I also was able to see how much happier and more independent the other same-age babies seemed to be. You made it through a few songs before completely melting down, but I’d still call it a win; it was some good exposure for you, and fun for me to do something with just you for a bit.

You had your first cold this month, and even though it was mild it was hard to watch you suffer. You were stuffy and irritable and seemed confused by the leakage coming from your nose. It was during those few days that you discovered your tongue! You’d stick it out—partly to help you breathe, but also to taste your snot (gross but true)—and even once you’d made a full recovery, you still enjoyed experimenting with that newfound body part. It kind of amazes me that you can watch me stick out my own tongue and know how to mirror my face! Baby brain development is absolutely wild.

One area that has not gotten any easier with you is sleep. You do nap throughout the day, and your nap times have gotten a little more predictable, but you will ONLY nap when you’re being worn or held or when you fall asleep in the car. If we try to put you down to sleep, you scream and never settle down long enough to attempt sleeping. (Perhaps if we let you cry long enough you’d sleep but we haven’t been willing to do this.) And bedtime is just as hard. Our old routine was to nurse you to sleep then transfer you to your swing, where you’d sleep for several hours before waking. I can no longer get you into your swing without you waking up and, on the off chance that the transfer is a success, you are awake again within the hour and screaming to be held. The same happens if I try to transfer you to the bed. The only solution has been for me to hold you (asleep) while I do my various evening routines—eating dinner, blogging, cleaning up the house—with Daddy taking over when I do things like shower and brush my teeth. Thank goodness you will sleep next to me (usually) once it’s my own bedtime. The situation isn’t ideal, and I’m tired without my evening break, but I’m glad you’re getting some sleep and I’m hopeful that this, as with all things, will eventually change.

We spend a lot of time together, you and I. It’s exhausting, but it’s beautiful too. I love that you recognize me now and light up when you see my face. You reach out for me with intentionality, grasp my hand for comfort and roll towards me in bed. What an absolute gift you are, sweet Nickelson. I don’t think I will ever stop marveling at God’s kindness in bringing you to our family. Thanks for being here.

Love Always and Forever,

Mama

LENGTH // WEIGHT: 23 inches // 13 pounds 6 ounces (at your well-check two weeks ago); you’re not on the charts, but are growing so doctor’s not concerned; your head circumference, however, is 64%—gotta be big to hold that smart brain of yours, I guess!

CLOTHING SIZE: 3-6 months

DIAPER SIZE: Size 2 Honest Diapers

EYE COLOR: hazel with dark rims, though they still look blue when we’re outside

LIKES: rattles, airplane chew toys, the Bumbo seat (for short stints), milkies, applesauce, baths, being outside (going out in the sun is the quickest way to settle you down when you’re upset)

DISLIKES: being by yourself

MILESTONES: rolling over, started solids, sticking out tongue

OTHER FIRSTS: first cold, first baby story time, first time in the high chair

RANDOM DEVELOPMENTS: We’re working on clearing up your cradle cap, and your hair seems to be disappearing with it. What’s left is so much lighter than when you were born! We’ve also been trying to clear up the rash that keeps developing on your cheeks and chin where your face rubs against the baby carriers; Aquaphor and various oils have helped quite a bit. Your bowels have changed since starting solids; I won’t go into detail here, other than to note that while I miss the breastmilk poop, I’m glad we’ve moved past the morning blowouts that ALWAYS seemed to happen in the car.

CUTE MEMORIES: your surprise then happiness and pride at rolling over for the first time; the way you hang on to the handle of your cloud toy that is suspended from the top of your car seat; seeing people smiling at me and realizing you are smiling at THEM from the baby carrier