100 days for Quinn - April 9, 2012

Quinn is 100 days old. It's a special milestone in our Korean culture, borne from the days when infant mortality rates were especially high in the early weeks. Although maternal and perinatal health programs have improved infant survival rates exponentially, a child's 100th day is still commemorated with pictures and lots of rice cakes. In our chaotic life, Quinn's 100th day was marked with pictures, lots of cuddles and a cake.
I can't believe it's been 100 days since our darling monkey made his grand entrance on the last waning minutes of 2011. Since then, though my quality of sleep has drastically declined, our daily lives have been enriched and brightened by the contagious smiles Quinn deals out to all of us.
I have been pleasantly surprised by the lack of jealousy among his older siblings. I have been deeply touched by their helpfulness and eagerness to hold Baby Quinn, except of course, when his diaper needs to be changed. Every morning, Devlin kisses his brother "good morning" and he is quick to ask about Quinn when he comes home from school.  Ceilidh will cuddle her baby brother, and when I'm not looking, pick him up from whatever surface Quinn was lying on. Aisling calls Quinn the "cutest baby" and serenades him whenever he cries.
At 100 days, Quinn is smiling easily, especially in the mornings. He loves to "talk" with you, and vocalizes his happiness and his displeasure. Bathtimes are generally a session of happy coos and grins, so long as the water is steaming warm. He's not a huge fan of car rides, and proved it by crying from Chatham to Mississauga on the journey home from Windsor. At feeding time, he expresses his excitement by joyfully kicking his legs while batting away his mother's shirt and smiling gleefully.
His gummy grins are enough to whisk away a terrible night's sleep. His jutting lower lip and sad eyes tug at your heart as you quickly scoop up the twelve and half pounds of baby and cuddle him close, as you swear to right whatever is wrong in his world. Whenever he snuggles his face into my neck, a wave of contentment  washes over me that melts away the daily stresses of my chore list. The realization that 100 days has already sped by with lightening speed moves me to sit down and revel in the moment. We cuddle, we play with some toys, we coo at each other. Instead of folding the laundry, I rock Quinn to sleep in my arms, and let him snooze gently while I stare at his peaceful face.
Happy 100 days Quinn!