A letter to a boy
Not just any boy. Our boy. My boy.
As I write this, I am listening to the gentle rise and fall of the white noise waves over the baby moniter as you nap. It's so amazing to me that within the span of a month, not only have you started napping with more consistency, but you've learned how to put yourself to sleep for those naps. You are pretty close to sleep trained, and that is pretty awesome.
Another month gone by, and another month's worth of memories to try and capture with words that just never quite do them justice.
I want to remember that this month you started sleeping on your own, in your crib, for every nap and at night.
I want to remember that this month you went through not one, but two smaller growth spurts. That you tried sweet peas and blueberries for the first time and liked them both - but parsnips are still your favourites!
I want to remember the way your little hands reach up and out when you want something, expressing what you can't yet ask with words.
To remember that this was the month in which I spent my first night away from you. And not just one, but two right in a row. I wish I had a better adventure to report than a hospital stay, but I'm pretty sure you had more fun hanging out with your Gran than your dad and I did sleeping at the hospital without you.
To remember the purity of your hysterical giggles when you play with your daddy before bed.
To remember that this month you were able to sit up unsupported - in your swing, on the floor, and in the bath.
To remember that at your 6 month appointment you were 66cm long, weighed in at a healthy 17lbs and barely made a peep for your needle.
That even though you still have absolutely no interest in crawling, you do reach with all your might for things that are just beyond your grasp. And that the stacking rings are your absolute favourite toys to reach for.
That this month daddy and I took you to our favourite breakfast place for the first time since you were born - and you sat silently the entire time, just taking it all in.
Five more months oof mummy and Mason every day. I'll be right behind you, holding you up, watching you grow, and taking it all in as well.
I love you munchkin.