Growing

It's been almost 3 months since you were born! It's not a wonder that I haven't written much here, as I've been busy staring at your sweet face and snuggling you. Also cleaning poopy diapers, feeding you pretty much constantly (you're a hungry little man!), and trying to get us out of the house occasionally. More than occasionally actually.  You come to yoga with me almost every morning. You sleep most of the time, but when you are awake, you love to watch the people. Everyone there is so sweet with you. They tolerate your interruptions, both cooing and fussing, equally.

You are growing very quickly. I'm determined to not miss any of your beautiful moments. Nothing in my life has ever been better than watching you discover the world around you. You wake up slowly, bleary eyed and hanging in that space between slumber and wakefulness for longer than I'd expect from a baby. The very moment you edge over into consciousness, you are all smiles. You awaken expecting nothing but good things to happen now that you're aware and ready to experience life. I hope so very much that stays with you. Optimism is lovely and too rare a trait.

You're a pretty good sleeper, unless of course, you are going through a growth spurt. This is happening now. You are currently ravenously hungry all the time and unable to sleep more than a couple hours because there must be more eating! The only thing equal to eating for you is snuggling. You are always a pretty snuggly boy, but during this growth spurt it is the only way you will sleep without nearly constant fussing. It is not a huge sacrifice to sleep with you cuddled against me. I know that these days will be behind us all too quickly, and I will miss these special moments when you are tiny and need me so much.

On that note, I will end this because you have woken up from your nap and are very unhappy about being alone.

Love,
mama

The Early Years

Hey Archer,

I've been thinking a lot about how little you'll remember from this time in your brand new life. Hell, even we'll start to lose our memories of these first few months as you get older, more interactive, and your mom and me start our gradual decline toward dementia.

Sad, right?

But maybe it's not all sad. I mean, maybe it's for the best that you won't really have any memories about your grand entrance and the subsequent months/years.

Take, for example, your first experience outside of the womb. You went form chilling out in the only environment you'd ever known to being unceremoniously yanked out by weird looking giants. It was crazy bright and everyone you first laid eyes upon was covered in blood due to the c-section.

You wouldn't have known, because you haven't lived long enough, but there will come a point where if giant strangers came crashing through your bedroom walls in the middle of the night with spotlights to pull you (naked) out of your cozy confines and into a new, strange world you'd be pretty fucked up over it.

And I don't even think that's the weirdest thing you endure during these first few years.

Thank god you won't remember what it's like to get your diaper changed, butt-paste applied, and all your nooks and crannies cleaned. I mean, think about it...Every three hours or so a thing 5x your size takes you from slumber or a warm embrace so they can basically attack your genitals with wipes and ointments.

And all the while these giants are smiling and analyzing your body for changes.

Creepy.

I honestly believe that the reason we can't remember these years are because if we did it would completely fuck up the rest of our lives.

Gotta run, but before I go here's a bit of advice:

Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened. And also because you bet two dimes on the winner at +250.

~ Dad