Aurick turned three months on the seventh of January.

The poor dear still doesn’t have a steady nickname. Still! He is the only one of the children to suffer this fate. All the other babies had nicknames immediately–Remy, Twiggy, Mo, Kunchkin (or Ponky, then eventually Cakies), Dodo, Beada. I blame this fate on Beatrice–we were waiting to see what she would call him, so we could follow suit–but she stubbornly pronounces his name with perfect clarity, and so just Baby Aurick he is. (He is occasionally called Rikki-Tikki, but not on a consistent basis.)

He is, really, a pretty chill baby–he reminds me very much of Eldore. He falls asleep so easily, and sometimes when he’s in his basket and we’re doing school I forget to put him back in my room for his nap, and when I remember and go to get him, he is already sleeping peacefully, his hands thrown up over his head. Eldore was the only other baby would could fall asleep like that at this age–some could fall asleep in a stroller (Ephraim) or in the car (everyone but Clive) but no one but Eldore, that I remember, could just conk out in the middle of a room with people talking and toddlers crying and mothers speaking very loudly so that they can be heard at all. Anselm asked me yesterday what he was like at Aurick’s age–I told him what I chiefly remembered was that he talked a lot and wouldn’t nap. Aurick, thank goodness, is a napper. He also is doing pretty well at night.
He loves to talk, too, though he isn’t perhaps as talkative as some other babies have been. He loves to be talked to, however. Whenever he is fussy, it is frequently because he is lonely. If someone comes to talk to him, he brightens right away. He also has this very funny habit of yelling before he sneezes. He doesn’t do it every time, but he does it frequently. Hopefully some day I will capture it on video.

He has a very expressive face, with an expressively wrinkly brow. We can’t quite figure out who he looks like, but he does seem to have the Jarboe “thinking face” that will possibly get him into trouble later on. (Not that I would know anything about that.)

He’s started playing with our beloved IKEA gym, though he really prefers talking to someone to batting at the toys. His favorite place to be is on the bed, kicking his legs and flailing his arms while he snuffles, wide-eyed, at whomever is condescending to converse with him. And if said person will pretend to sneeze at him, he will love it even more. He may even laugh.

His eyes have gone brown. This makes five for Team Daddy and just two for Team Mommy. None of his hair has fallen out but the little patch on the back that has been rubbed off–this may solidify his standing in the Flippy Hair Bunch, which is a very exclusive club. We’ll see.

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