I am sitting here feeding both of you in the very early morning, my sons. When I feed you individually Lewis, you inevitably come first. Why? Because you are crying to be fed, and it seems like you can't wait one minute or even thirty seconds longer. You are getting better at putting your tongue down, and letting the milk flow from the bottle into the back of your mouth - and I think it's true that Grandma, Daddy and I are also getting better at knowing when you've taken the bottle properly. We look for the air bubbles in the bottle, accompanied by cute sucking noises - and then we know the level of milk will go down quite quickly after that. You are currently nestling into my shoulder and throwing your head around, making it difficult to type. I began to write this post, but then you became restless and started crying, after I had finished feeding and changing you. You then looked like you were drifting off to sleep, but now your eyes are wide open and roaming around the room, settling on me every now and again.
You give the three of us a challenge when trying to feed you - you put your hands in front of your face and often block the view of your mouth or the way of the bottle. Your hands are often at the sides of your face - touching your eyes, one hand on the bottle - the other tiny hand is often gesticulating like an actor's in the middle of a dramatic soliloquy - arm dropped down by your hip, hand stretched out and splayed widely. Your movements are rapid and you squirm quite a lot - I have taken to calling you "wrigglepot" as one of your nicknames, and Grandma has starting using that as well.
I am sitting here, looking at you, and swearing you are looking back at me. I often admire your translucent skin, your wide almond shaped dark blue eyes and your tiny shell shaped ears. Now you have both hands nestled under your head, and appear to be falling asleep against my chest, taking soft snuffling rapid breaths and making cute little huffing noises.
You may be the spendthrift of the family - when we go to change your nappy, you always seem to get the timing just right for maximum impact - often adding in a little sprinkle, or extra bottom action, for good measure. It is quite common for you to have gone through three nappies in one change - and two of those usually never got anywhere near you!
Will life always go at such a rush for you, my son? Are you going to be anxious to come first, to finish first? It will be so interesting to see how your personality grows and develops through the years.
Henry - thank goodness you are so different. I can hear you awake, making little chicken peeping noises, and see you lying patiently, waiting for people to come to you - waiting your turn with patience. Occasionally you turn the volume up - LOUD! and announce your presence, but not nearly as often as your little brother. When feeding you this morning, you lay looking around the room, seemingly happy and content until someone was able to give you attention.
You lay quite still in my arms whilst being fed - your arms relaxed by your side. You take your time and are happy to come up for air regularly, but once you've had enough milk, you purse your mouth up and frown at your feeder. It is very obvious when you are full and won't take another drop!
Your expressions seem quite sombre and sometimes you look so sad. Daddy says to you "who stole all your shares, Henry?"and laughs at you when your eyes turn downward at the corners. I can't wait for you to smile at me and reveal a sunny personality - but for now - I am in love with your rosy cheeks, and your little chicken chirps and peeping noises - not to also forget the fact that sometimes you remind me so strongly of your Daddy. I wonder if you will grow up to be blonde haired and blue-eyed, my son, but no matter how you look, I am curious to confirm my impression that you will be patient, brave and confident in yourself to give your brother the space and room he needs.
Today, Friday 29th July - Daddy registered your births at the Uxbridge Registry office - so you both are now officially Henry Ian and Lewis James Drummond Jones - not "it" and "bit" as Daddy sometimes called you! Much more dignified and appropriate for my beautiful boys - both now as babies, and as fine men in the far distant future. No matter what - I am sure we will love you then as much, if not more, as we do now.
With all my heart,