By now, three out of five times, Eco’s list actually lands in his mouth instead of on his cheek or in his eye when he tries to use it as a pacifier (we don’t use pacifiers. As long as he can be calmed without them, I prefer that, since pacifiers can take a lot of weaning off, can impede language development and can damage teeth and jaws). We try to make sure that he doesn’t make a habit out of it, though.

About two and a half weeks ago, he started to recognize Patri and me when we stand in front of the mirror with him in our arms. He started to smile back at our mirror image, very cute. Since last week, he is looking at himself and smiling at himself at the mirror.

Sometimes, he hides away in our arms afterwards, shielding his face.

He also still has really, really blue eyes. A friend of ours whose grandchildren have brown eyes says that they will stay blue, since it’s not the blue that later shifts into brown. Patri is very happy about that.

Sometimes during breastfeeding, when we start a session, he now looks up at me with those really blue eyes, as if trying to assure himself that it’s the right milk bar he has walked into. Also very cute.

And since he’s already such a big boy and not a little baby anymore, he protests most of the time when we try to put him into the carrier top that we use as a daytime cradle. He prefers to be on his play blanket, even though he can’t hold onto any of his stuffed toys yet, but he likes to be able to moves his arms freely and to be able to look at the daylight streaming in through the window.

In week 6, he learned how to smile and that really is a whole new world, since this means that is communicating consciously and directly. Also, it is incredibly cute.

If we smile at him, he smiles back.

He has also learned to stick out his tongue in reply when we stick out our tongues at him (hm, he better forgets about again that before he enters kindergarten). It’s amazing how he can imitate us even though he probably isn’t even that conscious of the fact that he has a tongue yet.

One thing he knew how to do from Day 1 onwards was how to pout and he has been practicing that a lot, too. Especially when the milk bar doesn’t open fast enough. But he’s learning in that regard, too. He stops crying when we place him on the side and he starts to make drinking motions because he knows that position means that milk is on the way.

He also holds conversations with us – when we pick him up with our hands under his arms and hold him in front of us so our faces are at the same level, he beams with joy (and we melt away, of course) and he makes little throaty laughing noises. We imitate him, then he imitates us again and you can see how happy he is at realizing that he is making us react and that he is establishing contact. He smiles and beams and laughs so much during this that he usually ends up with a hiccup. Hiccups are starting to annoy him, just like in a grown-up.

He can also hold his head almost on his own by now and his eyesight is so good that he can identify us across the room.

The next step will be grasping and holding – the past few days, we’ve seen him consciously reach in the direction of things for the first time. Yesterday, he accidentally held onto one of his stuffed animals for a few seconds, though he still isn’t conscious of the fact that this means “holding on” that he could move an object that he holds onto.

And just this morning, as I was working on the side (and I feel guilty every time I look to the side and see him there, smiling expectantly at me – how can I spend any minute NOT dedicating him my full attention?), I caught him staring at his own hand for the first time, with utter curiosity, slowly moving his fingers and turning around his hand.

The period of peace where Eco just lays happily on his back, is content with a smile and a look, and can’t move on his own or grab things is about to come to its end. And I couldn’t be more excited about it!

On the other hand, my glasses (and Patri’s) are already trembling with fear…

I’m not sure if this is Spain in general, or the world in general, or just our family, but apparently, the only reason that Patri and I have brought Eco into this world is so that the women of Patri’s family have a new play doll.

I am somewhere between bemusement and annoyance about this, depending on my hormone levels on any given day.

As soon as another family (aunt, cousin, sister-in-law’s sister…) comes to visit, the following scenario plays out: the father of the family sits on the couch, keeping his jacket on and mumbling “well, then, let’s…” every other five minutes, the small kids tearing up the apartment, he older kids sitting bored on the couch playing with their cell phones, while the wife has walked in, picked up Eco (no matter whether he was sleeping in his crib), planted herself on the couch with him and continues to ignore her husband’s indirect pleas to leave while playing with our child as if Eco was exclusively her new play doll. Pinching his cheeks and starting to snap cell phone pictures included.

If it were my birth family, I’d tell them to back the hell off. Since they are my in-laws, I gnaw my teeth and shoot daggers at the cheek-pinching and cell phone flashes. Especially if they make Eco cry and then we get told that “uff, what a strange kid, how can he not be used to noises and people!”

Well, because we don’t thrown him at everyone since we actually like to spend our time with him, and also because at home, We. Don’t. Yell.

Really, all the women of the family are vying for their chances to take hold of Eco with something that verges on scary despair, as if the contact with someone so small, cute and defenseless and young would bring them back their own youth. Of course, Eco can’t really protest yet and as long as he can’t tell everyone to go jump in the lake, I try to balance my protectiveness with his state if mind. As long as he seems fine, I shut up and smile. As soon as he starts to cry and people still move him around like a doll, all hectic and nervous, with a new position every two seconds, I jump in, although Patri usually is quicker than I am.

Patri’s mother is also very fond of Eco. That’s great, and I’m very thankful for how naturally she accepts us and him and Patri’s and my marriage and everything, but sometimes, the grandmother hormones turn her into one big little girl who wants her doll, and she wants it NOW.

When she comes over to lunch, lunch takes four hours and it is difficult to convince her to let go of Eco while eating. When Eco starts to cry because he is hungry, she still doesn’t let go of him and more often than not you actually need to get up and take him away from her so that he can get his milk. When we visit her and leave and need to put him in his car seat, she walks onto the street and plants herself next to the car door to watch, making it nigh impossible for me and for Patri to move and fasten Eco’s seatbelt. And when we go to change Eco, she tags along to not miss a second of her grandson’s presence.

Okay, it is cute. It really is. But it’s also scary. And sometimes, it bugs the heck out of me, especially when she and all the women of Patri’s family are surprised that we apparently did NOT have this child so that they have something to play with, acting as if it is their natural right to march in and just take over.

Please, at least ask. And be a little considerate – when he cries, don’t yell or move him around frantically.

I don’t won’t to be unsocial or don’t let anyone near him, but I really don’t like the way they treat him like a doll or a toy.

When Eco was crying during a particularly noisy Christmas family dinner and we put him in the baby wrap for the duration of the (lengthy) lunch, we hadn’t gotten up for five minutes afterwards when the first sister-in-law asked with indignation, “Well, now you’re finally going it give him to us for a while, no?”

Argh!

I’d never even *ask* to hold another mother’s newborn baby out of respect for her and the baby and their still new bond. Not even my own mother would pick up Eco without making sure it’s okay with him, with Patri and with me.

Eco. Is. Not. A. Toy.

And I’d love to make the whole family write that on the blackboard a 100 times, just like Bart Simpson.

Okay, rant over. Really, is this normal? Am I normal? Are all families like this?

Enlighten me, please.

He was doing a lot better than I was!

He only cried – sharply – during the shots and was easy to calm directly afterwards. Thank God that Patri has more “cold blood”, as she calls it, in these matters. She had to hold down Eco’s thighs, I was glad that I didn’t have to do it.

At least the nurse on duty was very nice and kind and set the shots well.

I couldn’t even watch, with protective hormones in full gear. He was lying there on the table all peacefully, looking at me with complete trust, and I am standing there, next to him, knowing full well that I will let someone hurt him in the next second.  It’s just a tiny shot (well, two), but it feels dreadful

This will get more difficult the more conscious Eco will be of what will happen to him. For now, he is sleeping peacefully – I hope he won’t have too many side effects.

The fever, however, wasn’t as overly dramatic as the incompetence of the pediatrician in question.

We were lucky that we had a chance to “practice” with a relatively light fever – it never went higher than 38°C (although I my family, the general temperature is not 37°C, but more like 35,7°, so it might count as somewhat higher) and even though Eco was a bit more quiet than usual, with his skin pale and glossy (a sight tearing at my hormonal heart!), he didn’t seem to be in pain or despair, he kept smiling and making sounds to himself.

Taking his temperature (for precision, rectal) was a challenge; we were afraid to hurt him, he never kept still for longer than ten seconds and the stupid thermometer needed forever to decide on a temperature. In the end, we simply took a steady value and didn’t wait for the “beep” that signaled the end of the measuring process.

Very recommendable, however, are those small digital thermometers with a flexible gold tip. The ear/forehead version may be less invasive, but also a lot more imprecise (and cost between six and twelve times as much as the normal ones). A positive point is that taking the temperature didn’t seem to hurt Eco at all (otherwise, we probably would have stopped and run for the nearest ear thermometer, however imprecise it might be), he barely seemed to notice it.

It needs to be sad, however, that taking the temperature rectally kicks into gear the bathroom reflex, so on two different occasions, we found ourselves not with the temperature, but with other things on our hands. And clothes. And the floor.
Eco, throughout all this, was mumbling and bubbling happily to himself and kicking with his feet.

Since the temperature never went high enough to worry about medication or medical attention (that would be as of 39°C, although I’d probably worry at anything above 38°C because of my family’s low body temperature), we didn’t consult the pediatrician at first, but when it went on for the fourth day, we called him and he told us to come in the next morning.

We told him that we don’t know Eco’s normal temperature (we don’t take his temperature for fun when he is fine, though it would probably be a good idea to do that some day for a comparison value) but that he felt hot to our touch these days and also, that the fever comes and goes – less in the mornings, more in the afternoons and evenings.

The good thing was that the pediatrician checked Eco through and found that he was fine (of course, that morning the fever was barely there, it only showed up again in the afternoon), since he was smiling and talking and felt normal to the touch.

He told us in his patronizing tone (sounding like “gosh, the lesbians who have babies really worry about EVERYTHING”) that taking the temperature rectally means that we’d have to take off half a degree from the result, and why we wouldn’t measure under the arm?

Uhm, because that has been ruled UTTERLY imprecise (unless you’ve got a hospital thermometer and a hospital nurse who do it) about two or three decades ago?!!

And, no Eco wouldn’t have a fever. He completely dismissed our telling him that Eco had felt much warmer to the touch that usual. Alright, he cannot rely on a mother’s feeling, but he can take it into consideration at least. And we know our son better than he does: we notice immediately if he feels different to our touch.

The pediatrician’s explanation in the end? He gestured at Eco’s jacket and cap and blanket in the corner and said “You simply overdress him, and that’s why he feels different.”

Uhm, epic fail. We tried to explain that Eco wears the same clothes – a body and a jumper – every day. And he never felt different to our touch until he ran that little fever. Also, we had come with the car, at the first hour in the morning, at degrees around zero, so of course we put Eco in a cap and jacket and covered him with a blanket when we put him in the very cold car seat. Duh!!

After this display, we just went home with our boy, content to know that he was okay and that lungs/heart/throat (things the pediatrician checked) were alright. And then we continued with common sense and family advice: we bought paracetamol in baby dosage in case the fever would go up to 39°C, and for the rest, we simply made sure he slept a lot and drank a lot and could relax, and we monitored his temperature. And after another two days, he was fine.

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