Monday, September 20, 2010

Jack, Months 2 & 3

Dear Jack,

What can I say, son?  You're the 2nd baby.  I certainly don't love you any less, I just don't have time to devote to blogging like I used to.

Did I ever have time? 

You turned 3 months old on Saturday (I might possibly still be in denial).

So this is it.

For now.

Little Jack Michael ... 3 months old ... starting to laugh, wanting desperately to sit up (cranky in the bouncy chair), spitting up constantly, all over all my clothes and my hair, big smiles for Phoebe and boobies (food), still can't decide who you look like (Uncle Kyle? Uncle Greg H.? Daddy? Me?), still looooong/tall (not so chubby as we thought -- but so, so tall), still have scrunched up legs and arms, but starting to stretch out, so unbelievably talkative -- you have so. much. to. say, son, I can't wait to hear you talk, to hear what you have to say, you're so easy-going, you'll fall asleep in the car, break mom's heart you'll be too big to hold someday.  Your dad has been going out of town a lot lately and that means I have room to nurse you in bed.  I smell your little milk breath, and kiss your little fingers and I think about the line between romanticism and maternity and how fine that line is.  I love you so much, I sometimes call your dad "little handsome" on accident (he's BIG handsome).  I know someday you'll be too old to be in love with, too big to kiss on the lips, too much of a man to sleep next to me and let me smell your sweet babyness.

But just maybe you'll never be too big for me to hold.

I hope not.

... because you will most certainly always be my baby.


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