three months

 I mean... can you even stand it? (I can't.)

dear Victoria,

as I type this, you are sitting in your bouncer, mesmerized by your hands as they twist and turn in front of your face, cooing to yourself. you are such a calm baby. whenever you do cry, Elizabeth (22 months) comes running. "I coming! baby kye [cry]! a bee [a binky]! it's okay!" and attempts to put your binky in your mouth or cover you up with a blanket. you give her a huge smile and usually stop fussing right away (that is, until Elizabeth plays her other favourite game of taking the binky out of your mouth and bringing it to me with a concerned face: "uh oh! oh no!"). 

your biggest fan (even if she does like to push the "off" button on your mamaroo while you're in it)

the other day, I was getting dinner ready while looking around at the disaster of toys, dishes, and detritus of daily life at home, and wondering why the law of entropy has to exist and if it's ever possible that the house will stay clean for more than ten minutes at a time. then I looked over at the couch where you were laying with your feet propped up on the back (the most comfortable position with your brace). Greta and Elizabeth were taking turns gently bending their heads down towards yours and saying "hello! hello!" as you squealed and smiled at them. our house may never be magazine-worthy, but you are growing up surrounded by so much love!

after a rough few days, you have completely adjusted to your new abduction brace, and it's still fairly clean! you yourself are staying quite clean as well, since you can now get regular baths. you absolutely love to kick your little leggies in the warm water, and you don't mind having your hair washed even when a little water runs down into your eyes. you follow up with the orthopedic doctor on October 12. fingers crossed that your hips are continuing to improve! 

you drink five 4- or 5-ounce bottles over the course of a day, and you do not like to stop halfway through for the essential burping session. even with a good burp, you spit up way more than your sisters ever did. I don't think you have reflux or any true GI distress, though -- you'll have a huge smile on your face while a rivulet of spitup cascades down your chin. I'm happy that you're happy, but we sure do go through a lot of bibs, burp cloths, and outfits (for both of us).

last week, I started back to work on Wednesdays/Thursdays/Fridays. back in February, I had notified the daycare that you would need to start going three days a week in the fall (at the same time Elizabeth's schedule bumped up to three days from the two days we kept as a routine even with me on maternity leave). but there was a major snafu. the director was fired over the summer for failing to keep up with the job responsibilities, one of which included holding your spot... and the interim director didn't know anything about it until I contacted them to confirm enrollment at the end of August. at that point, the new director thought they would have the staff to support you starting on schedule, but as of now they are still waiting for new staff to be fully cleared and trained before you can start. so, both last week and this week, you've stayed home, with Nick, myself, and our two fantastic neighbors rotating shifts to take care of you. while it's not a sustainable solution, it has made it a lot easier to go to work, leaving you snug in your bed rather than hustling off to daycare -- but I certainly hope that you've gotten a spot by the time I'm writing your next monthly update. 

all smiles at your delayed 2-month vaccine appointment (we had to wait until you were out of the Pavlik harness so they could reach your little thighs)

you cling on like a baby koala and it's just the best ever

Victoria Anne, you are our little sunshine and you are already growing too fast!