Four months. Four glorious months have passed of watching every single magical thing you do in pure awe. I can't tell you how many times we're playing on the floor or you're nursing or falling asleep in my arms and I just keep telling myself over and over to remember and appreciate every single moment of this because I can literally feel the baby in you slipping through my fingers.
The newborn I knew is all but gone now. I can sometimes see a little glimpse of her when you're doing tummy time and your huge cheeks are just sagging and swaying in the breeze, but in the blink of an eye it's gone.
I remember my mom telling me that when I was born (way overdue) that it was because I just wasn't ready--and that the trait of not doing anything until I was ready stayed with me my whole life. But then when I'm ready--look out world! There's nothing stopping me.
I can see a similar pattern in you, my love. My labor with you was a slow start--a trickle of my water, a cramp, and then slowly built. You're the same way with your milestones--I'll get all concerned that you're not reaching for something as actively as you should be (in my head, of course) and then I realize you've been doing it all along without any ability to pinpoint the "first time" you did anything. One day you'll nonchalantly rest your hand on something. Another day you'll pat it. Another day you'll grasp your chubby little fingers around it and next thing I know, you're shoving it in your mouth with this look on your face like, "What? I knew how to do this all along."
You do things in your own time, but your pace is slow and peaceful not like your momma, Hurricane MSC.
I haven't been good at writing to you as much as I probably should be, but honestly it's because I've been trying to spend every moment making those memories, not recording them. However, our monthly photo shoot have kept going strong and we're really starting to enjoy some creative photo ops. (See my first tribute to Mila's Daydreams.)
In the end, I'm wearing the New Parent badge of honor on my sleeve. I can't apologize or hide the love and pride that's bursting from me. You're such a easy going, loving little nugget and I'm so grateful that you chose us to be your parents.
