To my Boy, Nearly 5 Months
admin December 4th, 2008
Dear baby boy,
In a few days you will be 5 months old. You have changed so much in the last few weeks. Before I forget all those little wonderful things that make you the boy you are right now, let me put down just a few.
Right now I am listening to you breathe having just given you your bath, wrapped you up, and put you to bed in your room. You went to sleep before I could even gather my things and leave, as you do most nights, and for this I thank you. It is easy to congratulate myself on getting you to be such a good sleeper, but I know that much is to do with you. You are such a good baby. In and out in and out, you breathe as you play: hard, fast, and with vigor. I go to bed every night with your monitor beside me, and I have found that I cannot sleep if the volume is turned too low, so that I cannot hear your rhythmical breath beside me. The monitor we have also features live video, a wonderful invention that allows me to spy on you even in a dark room. Every night just before I snuggle in with your dad, I turn on the picture to get one last look at you, your hair, your head, your nose, your little fingers, before I go to sleep.
The monitor has a green light that at night is the only illumination in your room. Sometimes when you wake up you must stare at that little light because it looks like you are looking right at me through the monitor. Please quit doing that. At 2AM it really creeps me out.
I must tell you that t is difficult for me that I still have not found a job. You may learn when you get older of the economic downturn which has made things difficult for many people in this country. What it has meant for this family is that your Dad is the sole income source and though I am a very qualified, smart young woman, I just cannot find a position in our city. This means that we can pay bills, but all saving and any kind of non-essential spending has stopped, and we are slowly draining our available reserves. I tell you this not to complain, but to let you know then how much I enjoy our days together, that I half-heartedly mentioned just the other day that I wouldn’t really care if I ever went back to work. Now, someday soon, I’d love a job. I love what I have learned to do and the potential of what I have yet to learn. But I had no idea how completely miserable I will be when I don’t get to spend the most part of every day with you. The first day I leave you with someone else, I know I will break down. And as you will learn, I am not a crier.
What do I enjoy about our days together? Recently, most everything. I love watching you explore new things, touching them first with your hands, and then your tongue. I love how fascinated you are with our dogs, and how hard you try to reach out to them, how you smile when they lean over to sniff your head. I love seeing you furrow your brow when you encounter something new, thinking, figuring, learning. I love that you smile at me when I make animal noises and sing off key to you from the shower. I love how you study me in our quiet moments, softly reaching up to touch my face. I love the squeal you make as I kiss the back of your knee, and how you now start to smile in anticipation at the first “little piggie” And though you still pull my hair and it still hurts like hell, your improving motor skills, it seems, allows you to let go a little sooner.
Most mornings I hear you waking on the monitor and after making sure that you won’t go back to sleep I go into your room to say good morning. I have to say that I have yet to find anything more delicious that seeing you look up at me, for an instant with a little frown as your little brain works to compute what it is seeing, and then watching your eyes crinkle and your grin spread all across your face, your toothless gums wide and happy. I know all mothers must feel this way, but there is nothing better than your smile. “Good morning!” I say, and you grin. “It’s your Mommy!” I say, and you grin. “Hi there!” grin.
It’s not just your smiles that have made my days with you recently so enjoyable. Now you are at an age where you love to play. You want to touch, to smell, to hear, to understand everything. For about a week I took you all over the house and held you up to everything I could think of: the printer, the window, the washing machine, the pantry, flowers in a vase, running water in the sink, and you put your hand out again and again, brow furrowed, studying. And then, you got bored. You still like these things, but they seem to hold your interest less and less so these days we go out. You love walks outside in the sling, and so do I, you with a leaf in one hand, and my finger in another; I with you in front of me, pointing out birds, clouds, the names of trees… You also love the mall with its myriad things to see, including the wonderful glass elevator. We are slowly getting to know our neighbors, the proprietors of our local stores, and various workmen who frequent our neighborhood.
I like to eat your fingers and kiss your neck. You like me to stroke your cheek. I like to smell your head. You like me to bark like a dog.
Bath time is great fun for both of us. You seem to love being naked, and regardless of how fussy tired you were just before we plop you in the water, you are all grins as you do your best to splash every bit of moisture out of both our tubs. Usually your dad helps give you a bath, and our routine now requires three washcloths: one for me, one for him, and one for you to hold onto. You still try to steal ours though. Greedy little baby.
The last few days, your Dad has had to work so much that he has left before you were up in the morning, and returned after you went to sleep. Thankfully he won’t have to do this much longer, but it has driven home even more how much he loves you too. The other morning, around 5AM, I asked him to change your diaper for me. I have never seen anyone so giddy to change a dirty diaper. “He’s so cute!” he exclaimed, and I agreed. Not many people are cute at 5AM, sitting in their own feces.
So son, I hope as they say, that every age is the best age, but I sure am enjoying this one. When, not too long ago, after tearing up at yet another diapers commercial, I said to my husband, “Oh, I want one of those!” and thought about all those incredible, wonderful, not to be missed moments I would have with my very own baby, well, this is exactly what I wanted.