Shannon Phillips

Robin turned three months old earlier this week, and, as everyone predicted, caring for him has gotten easier. He sleeps through the night more often than not, and his crankiness has abated: he smiles easily and often, and I even heard him laugh once. He can amuse himself for fairly long stretches of time (up to twenty minutes) just sitting in his chair, or lying on the playset his Auntie Nina bought him.

He’s become quite “talkative,” and will look me earnestly in the eyes while delivering himself of various hoots and syllabic fragments. He’s also really wiggly and is on the verge of being able to roll over—he can get from his back to his side, but he’s yet to do a full 180. He’s got good neck control and can “track” a moving person with his eyes. He’s also able to stuff his hand in his mouth pretty reliably, although he still ends up smacking himself in the face sometimes. This cracks his daddy up.

The really charming thing is that he’s especially happy when he first wakes up. I can only guess at what’s going through his head, but I imagine it’s something like “Oh yes, I remember this place—’the world,’ they call it. I like it here! Hooray!”