Saturday, April 28, 2012
Week of Firsts
Good morning my love. It's a rainy and cool Saturday morning in April. You are sleeping soundly, curled cozily in your crib enjoying a nap. Your dad and I are sharing a pot of coffee, plotting out the day.
My oh my have you grown, little one. We've spent the morning looking through the photos and videos of you that we've collected over the past few months. I can't get over how much you have changed! We are halfway through your third month. Fourteen weeks to be exact. It feels like time is moving so quickly! I find myself wanting to hit pause so I can hold on to these moments.
This was a very exciting week for you. On Monday you let out your first, true belly laugh. You've been laughing for awhile now, but this was your first serious giggle. You've also started grabbing at anything we put in front of you. Up to this point, you have batted at your toys, but now there is a sense of focus and purpose behind each movement. You are grasping toys and teethers and beginning to gnaw on things, which makes me think that teething isn't far away. You also began rolling over this week. It was incredible to see your determination as you moved to your side and then all the way over. You haven't quite figured out how to return to your back, but I have no doubt it will happen soon.
Our days are slowly becoming more organized. For a few weeks your naps were very sporadic. The unpredictable days made me feel a little crazed. Now you generally go down for a nap after two hours of being awake. Sometimes you sleep for glorious two or three hour stretches, but most of the time you sleep for 45 minutes, to the minute. I suspect (hope) these naps will eventually extend a little. I know you won't remember these days, but I feel so lucky to share them with you. You like to play on your activity mat or in your bouncy seat. You watch me cook dinner and listen as I walk through recipes aloud and tell you stories. We listen to music all day long and I sing to you (terribly out of tune). The Mary Poppins soundtrack is in heavy rotation right now. On the weekends your dad sings and plays the guitar for you. He is learning songs that he thinks you will like (this week, Loudon Wainwright III's "Daughter" and Bob Dylan's "Girl From The North Country").
I try to get you out on walks everyday, no matter the weather. This is sometimes a mistake (see that day in March when we got caught in the craziest downpour six blocks from home). I like to wear you in the Moby or Ergo and we head out. You gulp the wind and stare up at the sky, taking the world in. I am anxious to get you in the jogging stroller for runs along the lakefront.
In the evenings when your dad gets home from work, we begin winding you down for bed. We give you a bath. It is your favorite, favorite activity. You recently learned you can splash and we end up as soaked as you by the time the bath is complete. After your bath we give you a massage, put you in your pajamas, and read to you. You love to be read to. I read to you throughout the day and your dad usually reads to you at bedtime. I think we've read every book on your shelf already and have our favorites. I wonder which you will prefer and request we read night after night.
This week marked a big shift for us as you began sleeping in your crib at night. Up until this point you have been sleeping in your co-sleeper next to our bed. Now you are in your own room. I think the change was harder on me than you, you've made the adjustment beautifully. Waking briefly to feed you in the night has been a wonderful moment for me. I shuffle down the hall to your room. The house is quiet and still. You are sleepy and calm, barely opening your eyes. I rock you in the chair and feed you. I kiss your little forehead, and wonder what I did to get this lucky. Honestly Emerson, how in the world? To have you and your dad in my life... I can't put into words what it means to me. At the end of the most challenging or the most wonderful day, we have each other and that is all I need.
Thank you for these months together, I can't wait to see what is next.