Dear Mr. Babyman,

I’ve been meaning to write more about you so I remember the tiny but endearing details about your babyhood. Somehow between the time spent playing, working, and sleeping (you let me do that now!), I’ve let 2 months pass by without an update.

You’ll be 6 months old on Monday. This has been the quickest half-year of our lives (especially yours). In the last two months, you’ve really turned into a baby. I think it’s fair (and sad) to say that you’re no longer an infant. You sit up, you’re completely engaged in your surroundings, you try to pet the dog, and you make all sorts of experimental noises. I have a feeling you’ve even already started trying to manipulate us with some fake crying. I don’t mind – it’s actually pretty amusing to watch you go through the motions but promptly stop fussing when we distract you with something else.

Some little things that I don’t want to forget but probably will if I don’t write them down:

* Your skin is positively RADIANT. I’ve heard of a glowing complexion before, but I’ve never really seen it before you. It’s also incredibly soft. I cannot steal enough kisses from the little dimple in your shoulder and the cheeky curve between your ear and chin.

* I’ve watched the squishy infant migrate out of your face for the last 6 months, and I think it’s all gone now. But in its absence, I can see so much Kimble in your cheeks. It’s one of the things I love the most about your dad’s face, and I love catching glimpses of the resemblance in you.

* You are crazy about Jessie dog, and the feeling is definitely mutual. Our little morning routine involves sitting down on the rocker footrest so she can come over and you guys can say good morning to each other. I suspect you actually like it when she licks your face, though I’m trying to minimize that as much as possible until you’re old enough to say so yourself.

* You’ve definitely started exploring the different kinds of sounds you can make. High pitched squeals of glee (when you see Jessie), the most fantastic belly laughs, adorable little chuckles, raspberries with your lips, and the latest “word” when you’re tired or annoyed – BA BA BA! If I really want to read into it, I could easily imagine that this means binky, because whenever I give you the pacifier in response to this demanding string of BAs, you quiet immediately. Then again, following the same logic, I could also read into the “mamamama” sound you make when you’re feeling pitifully upset and imagine that you’re calling for me. Mostly I just think you’ve got your own baby language that translates to “give me something to chew on!” or “I’m so stinking tired/fed up with this. I just want to sleep” or “Dude! My diaper is wet and that sucks. Fix this situation, pronto.”

* I love watching people love you. My dad (who I think has decided on being called “Poppop” after much debate) watched you last week while your Babcia and I went to visit a friend in the hospital. When we got home, you were sound asleep on the bed with him sitting next to you. When it was time to wake you, he held your little hand and gently told you it was time to go. You bring out the best in people, baby.

You’re awake from your nap now, so it’s time to play again.

So much love,
Mama

Four Months!

Dear Mr. Baby,

Holy cow, people aren’t kidding when they say children grow up fast! You are like an entirely different person than you were four short months ago. Your most notable achievement as of late has been rolling over. I was sad that I missed the first time (you did it at daycare), but then I realized that I never would have seen it at home because I rarely put you down. Lesson learned. I try to give you space to do your thing now.

You love daycare, which makes it much easier to drop you off in the mornings. I hate being away from you, but it helps to know that you’re having a blast with the other babies and saving all of your blowouts for your teachers.

Because our time together is so limited during the week, I enjoy the heck out of every second we get to spend with each other. It’s been an exhausting few weeks since I’ve started taking you to school in the morning since your dad is working late shift. But I would absolutely rather sacrifice sleep than our playtime.

You’ve discovered the joy of my hair and have taken to holding onto it like you’re riding the subway when I carry you around. You don’t pull – you just sort of hang on for stability. I love the facial expression you make when I lean over you and sweep my hair across your face. It’s almost a cross between a smile and a sigh.

You’ve started laughing a little bit, and it is singularly the best sound on the planet. I love rain and thunder, but the giggle that comes out when you get overwhelmed with excitement totally takes the cake. You’re starting to figure out the peekaboo thing, and it cracks you up. I don’t even care how ridiculous I sound. So worth it to hear that laugh!

I’ve kept close watch on your face as the soft infant curves have given way to little boy features. The change first started in your forehead and moved down to your eyes as you became more alert and awake. Your cheeks, while still delightfully round, have grown more defined. I know you’ll only be this little for a short time, so I’m adoring the squishy parts of your face as often as I can. In exchange for the loss of your infant facial features, though, you’ve developed fantastic chubby little arms and legs. So it all balances out.

We’ve gotten a pretty good routine going these days. I pick you up from school, we come home and play, sometimes take a walk, and then it’s bathtime. Despite the fact that I’m a college graduate and successful career woman, I recently realized that I’ve been using your bathtub incorrectly for the last 4 months. You’re able to sit up with some balance help now, and since you’re getting too long for your tub, I thought I’d attach the support railing that came with it. After much frustrated wondering why I couldn’t attach the thing, I realized that it wasn’t a railing after all… it’s a frame for the bathmat so you don’t have to lay flat on your back. Genius. I’d been wishing for something like that since day 1.

You seem to enjoy bathtime much more now, though your days in the baby tub are numbered because you’re a whopping 25.5 inches long now! You had your 4 month checkup last week, and it’s amazing how much you’ve grown. You’re nearly 15 pounds…twice the size you were at birth. You’re growing up, my baby, and I’m so thrilled to be along for the ride.

Love,
Mama

11. Your Opinion About Your Body and How Comfortable You Are With It

I’ve never really had self esteem issues (this became evident when I unabashedly rocked some hideous hairstyles, including a terrible perm, an awkward shag, and one ‘do that my friends referred to as “the horn of evil”). I credit my mother for much of this – she always told me I was beautiful (parenting goggles are apparently much like beer goggles), and I believed her.

Fast forward to this time last year when I found out I was pregnant with our wee Mr. Jackson. I wasn’t sure how I would feel about my babyfied body, especially after I had him. I mean, all that skin has to go somewhere, right? I was secretly afraid that I would end up with leftovers that I could use to wrap around myself on cold nights.

The rounder I got during pregnancy, the more beautiful I felt. After I had him, I was too exhausted to care what I looked like. And now, three months later,  I don’t look exactly like I did last July. I’ve got a little extra cushion here and there, some souvenir marks as a reminder of Jackson’s stay, and several pairs of pants that I’ll be farewelling forever. But I’m pleasantly surprised to find that it doesn’t bother me at all. I am still amazed at what my body accomplished, and for that, I’m more comfortable with it than ever before.

12. Five Guys I Find Attractive

11. My Family

Holy cow, how am I supposed to even begin? My family is, quite simply, the most important thing in my life. Take away all of my stuff, eliminate television and music and art and flowers and mountains and coffee and cookies. My family beats it all.

I credit my military upbringing with this sentiment. I never had friends when we moved somewhere new. We had generic rental furniture in standard issue housing until our household goods arrived. I lived in a country foreign to me in language and culture. I spent at least half of my birthdays in the company of my parents and brothers.

Even after I moved away from home, that firm belief in the importance of family stuck and applies to my new little crew. Blood relatives and friends who’ve worked their way to blood status are, without a doubt, the peanut butter to my jelly.

Now that I have a baby, I so understand the “it takes a village to raise a child” adage. While I’m sure we could manage to raise the J-man on our own, the village approach is a lot easier (and more fun!). Several of my relatives came to visit for Jackson’s baptism last weekend. We did what we do best – spent long hours on the porch gathered around food and laughed.

Someone was always there to hold the baby (or if I snatched him for myself, they were there to make him laugh), to share stories about when my brothers and cousins and I were babies, and to dispense the communal knowledge and wisdom that comes from years of parenting. This is where I feel at home – not in a certain city or house or season, but in the company of family.

Back to the Grind

Dear Jackson,

We’ve spent the last 12 weeks in each others’ company. With few exceptions, we’ve been together pretty much every waking moment. And before that, we spent 9 months literally attached to each other.

I’m headed back to work in a few days, and I’m so dreading leaving you. I’m looking forward to the working part of it since my job is pretty awesome, but it’s just not as snuggly as you.

I’d be lying if I said I wanted to be a full-time stay at home mom, because I know I’d suck at it. I’m not really the self-motivated type who’s driven to get housework done and tackle projects and organize things (that’s your dad. He’d be a fabulous stay at home-r). I get sucked into the vortex of staring at you while you’re awake – your smiles are far more gratifying than a folded pile of laundry! If I could find a way to stay with you all day *and* work, I’d be all over that.

As you get older, I know you’ll benefit from being around other kids and learning and playing all day. I know sitting and gazing at mama all day won’t always be so entertaining, so I appreciate what daycare will do for you. But oh how I’m going to miss you, kiddo. For the last 12 weeks, I’ve been around for the majority of your smiles and laughs and cries and coos. I’ve been here to feed you and play with you and change your stinky diapers and just hold you when you feel like being held. We’ve gotten to know each other without words.

Mostly, I’m afraid of what I’m going to miss. Will I be around when you discover that your hands do, in fact, belong to you? Will I get to watch you learn to actually scoot around on those hands and knees? Will I be there when you find new vocal ranges like the high pitched squeals you found in the last few weeks?

And on that first day away from home, will you realize that you haven’t seen mama in awhile and get freaked out? I’m sure at some point that will happen – if not now then down the road – and I can’t protect you from it. But up until now, I’ve at least been able to comfort you when you’re hungry or tired or gassy or just in need of some love. So I guess this is my introduction to the real pain of parenting. Not childbirth or those nights when you wouldn’t sleep, but letting go. Letting you discover things on your own. I want you to grow up into an independent person who doesn’t shy away from adventure, and I guess this is just the beginning.

So much love,
Mama

10. The First Ten Songs on My Music Player

1. Frankie and Johnny by Sam Cooke
2. Starting Now by Ingrid Michaelson
3. Maggie May by Rod Stewart
4. Let It Be by The Beatles
5. Blessed to be a Witness by Ben Harper
6. Cupid by Sam Cooke
7. Piece of My Heart by Janis Joplin
8. My Best Friend by Weezer
9. You’ve Got a Friend by James Taylor
10. I’ll Come Running Back by Sam Cooke

Can you guess who I’d give my right arm to see live?

9. How Important You Think Education Is

Knowing stuff is important.  As the illustrious Dr. Obvious once stated, “The more you know, the more you know.”

I’m a big believer in going to college/tech school/some kind of vocational training right out of high school. It goes beyond gathering skills (though that’s definitely a plus). College gave me a chance to form my identity beyond the kid-in-a-family setting. It pushed me into making grown up decisions within an environment safer than the big, bad real world. And it was a heck of a lot of fun. I earned a piece of paper that made prospective employers consider my resume, but I also developed the confidence and social skills I needed to actually get a job.

Also, did I mention that it was a heck of a lot of fun?

8. What You Ate Today

1. English muffin, half with peanut butter and honey, half with nomtastic local jam and butter
2. Breaded tilapia and sweet potato fries
3. A banana
4. A brownie and two delectable chocolate chip walnut cookies
5. Shrimp cup o’ soup
6. Tuna with mayo and relish on cracked pepper and olive oil Triscuits

Still feeling schnacky, but I’m not sure what to eat. Jackson has been super fussy the last few days, and I’m afraid he might be having an issue with me eating dairy. I ate a big bowl of clam chowder and some ice cream yesterday afternoon/evening, and I spent several hours rocking a screeeeaming baby last night…so after that, I’m thinking it might be worth eliminating dairy for a few days to see if that helps. I’m a milk and cheese fiend, though, so we’ll see how this goes.

7. Five Pet Peeves

1. Tourists who feed wild animals. Also, people who approach wild animals in national parks as though they’re in a large petting zoo. I always secretly kind of hope the animals will eat them. There’s a lesson in natural selection if I ever saw one…

2. The words inflammable, ineffectual and orientate. Inflammable just doesn’t make sense. Flammable is perfectly understandable – no need for a nonsensical Siamese twin. Same goes for invaluable, now that I think about it. Ineffectual is just weird. Why not just save a syllable and say “ineffective”? People never say, “That sign in the park about not feeding animals was extremely effectual after the bear ate that dude.” And orientate should just be orient. The extra -ate is just overdoing it.

3. People who think they’re right about some ideology and refuse to consider the possibility that other perspectives might also be valid.

4. Dirty kitchens. My own included.

5. Grammar Abuse. Specifically the misuse of your and you’re (and any use of “ur”) and they’re/their. I want to go on an obnoxious rant every single time I see these used incorrectly. It isn’t that hard to remember! The English language is amazing and deserves more respect.