Posted by: Ingrid | September 28, 2009

Seven Weeks

Dear Isaac,

Today seems to be a day of sevens.  You are precisely seven weeks old and I am noticing a shift in people’s comments.  They still remark that you are such a beautiful baby (which you are indeed)


but they no longer comment on how tiny you are.  Now everyone coos “Oh, he’s so big.”  And then they kiss you.  I cannot believe the number of women who kiss you these days and then leave you smelling like a perfume counter.  You are quite the ladies man.  I feel like I can take full credit for the state of your expanding girth unless you are secretly sneaking off to the kitchen every night and hitting the peanut butter jar which I’m (almost) sure you aren’t.


You celebrated seven weeks last night by sleeping for seven hours in a row (unfortunately we didn’t take advantage of the full seven) although you woke up acting as though you were about to starve to death.  Yes, you, my poor emaciated child.


You and your father also allowed me to take a seven mile run this morning.  It would have been wonderful if I’d done seven miles in exactly seven minutes apiece, but that was not the case.


This run was made possible by the letter D for daddy, the letter M for Medela.  And of course the number seven.


Seven suits you well, Little One.




  1. Wow, he is a gorgeous guy! Congratulations on all that successful baby growing! M for Medela! I love it! I hear you… Reebok pales in comparison to Medela these days for me in contributing towards a successful run!

  2. He is just so cute (hey – a comment without the perfume smell! :)). Great to see that you are back into the routine of running – and 7 miles is awesome in any time frame!

  3. Thank you Leslie, I knew I still had it going.

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