According to the charts, you aren’t an infant anymore. You’re a baby. And that’s how you’ll stay the rest of your life. These medical charts measure your weight and height, and reached milestones. And just as I suspected, you’re perfect in every way; not too big, not too small, and a legitimate genius.
Every new mom is told how beautiful/smart/cute their new baby is, but you better get used to it Bird, because you’ll be hearing it for the rest of your life. Month three has been a whirlwind of changes. You smile not because it’s a mimicked emotion anymore, but because you want to smile. Add your laugh on top of that, and you completely melt your momma’s heart every time. You know and love your family better than anyone else, but your best friend is definitely the lady at Benedicts; you just can’t resist her big pink sweater.
I’ve never put you on a schedule; I waited for you do that all on your own. Wake up at 7:30am, nap a 9:00 for an hour(ish), up for the afternoon until 3:00, sleep, maybe (maybe) another catnap around 5:00, and then out for the night at 9:00. This goes like clockwork and round and round it goes. You know your hands all too well, and it’s a rarity they aren’t in your mouth. But now you’ve discovered grabbing your shirt and shoving that in there as well. And when the shirt wasn’t enough, you found your toes…and you also discovered that they too fit in your mouth. Tummy time is unnecessary, for you’ve been holding your head up since day one. But now you can full support your body weight and then some. You sleep on your side just like daddy, and you cross your legs right over left just like me. You only wake up twice at night (two and five am). You sleep with us every night, right in the middle. Daddy sleeps so close to the edge and I’m up constantly checking on you. I want you with me always; the bassinet across the room is just too far. Everyone says I’m in for trouble…and I’m sure they’re right, which is why we’re working on napping in the crib. You love the freedom. I still check on you constantly.
It’s been three months, yet I feel like I’ve never lived without you. I can’t get enough of you, but more so, neither can your dad. Christmas time is more magical than ever. We share with you the music, the smells, tastes, and love of the season. You have no sense of the celebrations, but you love the lights on the tree. You’ve mainly worn red and green this entire month because I feel like you need to be festive. Always. You’re still so young, but it’s the dreams of Christmases to come that excite your dad and me more than anything.
Tragedy struck this month in a small town, much like ours, in Connecticut. I want you to know that I’ve never hugged you tighter, loved you harder, or stared at you longer than ever before. You have the world in your hands and every open road at your feet. We live in a world of doubt, but put your trust in God and you’ll always be sure of your intentions. I promise to do everything in my power to lead you down the path the Lord has intended for you. I love you my Bird.
It’s more than just hair or eye colors that make up your genetics…your love for sports was passed down on both sides. You will sit and watch football and basketball forever. You love the fast motions and the commentator’s voice.
It was a cold December morning, and we decided to stay in bed all day. I love taking naps with you, and you sleep so much better when you’re being cuddled.
For the first month, mornings were a hard time for you. You would get mad if we stayed in bed too long. That’s when we discovered your amusement in windows. Now, our mornings are my favorite time. It’s constant smiles, giggles, and squirming all morning.