You are now 3 months and 4 days old. I’m five days late writing this letter, I know. I’ve been too busy gawking at how amazing I think you are, giving you lots of hugs, feeding you and taking your picture to sit down and write you a letter. Oh, and while I’m confessing, you should know that I haven’t touched your baby book since the nurse put your hand and foot prints in it. I know. Horrible. But I do write you these letters and I do have big plans for that darn book, you’ll see.
In the last month, your dad and I have really started to see your personality come out. You’re like your mother, and your Nana K, and my Nana (OK, and all your great-aunts) in that you really use your eyebrows to express yourself. You alternate between the left and right eyebrow and sometimes you have both of them up at the same time, almost to say, “What the HELL are you people doing?!” Sometimes you get this concerned look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. It’s not, baby… that’s what your mom and dad are here for. Sometimes I can tell you’re trying to figure out exactly how something works – like your swing or your hand. You are a big flirt – and you not only smile at strangers, but also laugh at them like they’ve told the funniest joke ever.
You gave your dad and I a run for our money last month when you refused to go to bed. That sucked, but now you are back on schedule. This weekend you slept in until 10 am and I kept coming in to check on you because I just could not believe it. When you do wake up, you always give me a big smile like you are pleased to see I’m still here and that soon I will be giving you food.
Food is one of your favorite things, I think. While you eat, you pat me with your hands. I’m not sure if this is an affectionate pat or a “More milk, woman.” Either way, I enjoy it. You’ve started this thing where you kick while you’re eating. Not sure if you are trying to multitask or what, but the kicking isn’t much of a surprise because you were quite the kicker in the womb. Sometimes though, you kick me in the chest, chin or right eye and that’s just no fun. So quit it.
You were in your first wedding a couple weeks ago and that was fun for all of us. We drove to Ojai, stayed in a lovely (after they fixed our air conditioning) hotel and had a great time being a part of your Aunt Sheila and Uncle David’s wedding. You got to hang out with your daddy and the groom and the rest of the guys while I ran around, got a pedicure and manicure and took care of whatever Sheila needed. I missed you both dearly, but knew you were in great hands. I hear your dad and you watched a show with break dancing and you were mesmerized. We got to walk (we pushed your stroller) down the aisle as a family and when the vows were said and done the three of us danced together. The dance was lovely and sweet and I’m hoping someone got a good picture of it, but after the dance had ended I realized that being away from you all day and then hugging you close is not such a good idea. Milk - all over the lime green taffeta. Good thing it was a nighttime wedding and once it dried it wasn’t so bad.
As I type this you are over at Cheryl and Chuck’s for the first time by yourself. Your dad and I took you to their house to meet them last Saturday and you all hit it off. Chuck sort of looks like your Grandpa Joe and you think he’s pretty funny and Cheryl, well I know you both are going to be great friends. She watches our friend Hal’s daughter (Ellie) too and I think this is going to be great for you. Ellie is so excited to get to have a baby around and I’m sure she will teach you all the things she has learned in her 3 years of life. When I dropped you off this morning, I was a little nervous. I was worried you would miss me. I was worried you wouldn’t miss me. I was worried I might miss some big milestone. But I know that you are in such wonderful hands and that this is good for all of us. This is going to be a weekly thing. I think I’m going to call them “Mama Mondays”. It gives me time to do stuff around the house, relax and regroup. We’re also going to make it a point to have you spend a night with Cheryl at least once every other week so your dad and I can go see a movie and eat dinner together. If today is any indication, I think this will be just fine with you. Cheryl has a swing, crib and a big television to occupy you – oh, and mama pumped a whole lotta milk to keep you nourished.
OK. Your dad will be home with you in less than an hour and I am so excited to see your little face! I love you, monkey.