Dear Baby Ike,
I never imagined that I would be one of those first time moms who writes mushy love letters to her new baby every month as if she’s the first person to ever have a baby and love him or her as much as all new parents love their babies, but it can’t hurt to say that we love you more than we had ever imagined was possible. Now that my labor and your birth are a month behind us, the sharp edges of that physical pain have already softened and faded to mere twinges in my memory, and your little smiles and chuckles and grunts and yes even farts have become so infatuating and addictive to me that I can almost see how some people end up with nineteen kids. Almost. But we’ll talk when you’re older about why you must never do such a thing.
You have changed so much in the short time since you were born that it seems like we must have known you for far longer than only a month – yet every day my time with you seems to be flying by, and every time I glance at a clock I’m amazed that so much time has passed. You’re much more active, and more expressive, and you just crack me up. Not every moment has been easy for us, of course, but even now as I look down at you grunting away in your sleep (I would love to know what all the grunting is about – it can’t all be about pooping) it’s hard to believe we’ve gotten so lucky. You’ve been a pretty easy baby for the most part. As excited as I am to watch you grow and change more and more, I am already nostalgic for my six pound baby. A week or two ago I said that I wished I could put a day in the freezer and be able to have a day with you as a baby again in a few years, or in a decade. I know the time will fly. We are having so much fun. Your Aunt Susie came down to see you again for your four-weeks-of-life-iversary on Monday.
She’s a natural. Try not to wrap her so tightly around your little finger that she snaps, okay?
You’re still the champion sleeper. You just tend to do a lot of it in the later morning, early afternoon, and evening and not so much between about two or three and five or six in the morning. It’s probably your least favorite trick of mine, because I’m still no good at sleeping while you sleep during the day. I will learn, just as you will soon learn to sleep through the night. I hope.
Your witty onesie happened to coordinate exactly with Aunt Susie’s dress. Getting you dressed is a lot more fun than getting myself dressed these days, even though we rarely do dress you in many pieces, because it is still. so. hot. here. Thankfully our air conditioning is functional again (and even better it was only a ten dollar part that needed to be replaced, so your parents may even finally get themselves some fancy new not-dumb phones within the next week or so), but we have yet to even use your stroller because we’ve spent too much time inside where it’s cool, hiding from the heat and humidity – maybe we’ll try it out when we go phone shopping! We’ll see. I’d like to use the Moby wrap more, too, since you seemed to like it well the first couple of times we used it. There are so many things we look forward to doing with you. This first month has barely scratched the surface of all the good times ahead, which makes your sappy mother all weepy with happy tears. I can’t promise it, but I will try not to be a big dork and cry over ever tiny milestone.