The Story of My Life: February 2017

Dear Fraser,

I know, I know. I'm more than a week late to post your 4-month love letter.

I've seen the biggest changes in you this last month. You're really becoming a little human.

I can wear you on my hip instead of cradling you. You're rolling around the neighborhood reclined in your stroller without the infant seat. You are just starting to let out a giggle or two, and before we know it...you'll be cracking yourself up. Pretty soon you'll be picking out your clothes and rushing off to catch the school bus that passes our house at 8:45. But not yet. Please not yet.

You are a squirmy and squeaky little one. Very active already. You can raise your head so high when you're on your tummy, and you flail all around if I don't strap you into your bouncy seat. I forgot someone gave us one of those Bimbo seats, and I got it down for you to try the other day. It was almost laughable--you just about rolled yourself right out of it. I think we missed the window on that device's age-appropriateness.

You still love movement, and it's our ritual to cook dinner together--you just watch and drool while being worn in one of my wraps. It's staying lighter longer now, too, so an evening walk is typically in the cards. You're a little bobblehead just soaking up all that's outside. And you're an Oregon baby, not afraid of a little--or a lot of--rain. God bless the stroller rain guard.

It's so fun to see you observe a new surrounding, especially if other babies are involved. You love going to the many moms' groups we attend and our visits with our new baby friends. You're pretty happy go lucky, will let most people hold you, and are quick to smile when sung to (your favorites are your dad's rendition of "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and my "If You're Happy and You Know it"). Speaking of music, I took you to the music class at our library, and you were mesmerized. I see many more Mondays at the library in our future.

We encountered a bit of trouble in the area of breastfeeding during this last month. You just weren't taking enough milk, so you and I had to work extra hard for a couple of weeks to try and get your weight up. It was pretty exhausting, and at first we didn't see success, but at your 4-month appointment, the doctor said you're doing great, which was such a relief. The whole process made me realize how much I worry about you already and how I'd do anything for you.

For your four-month birthday, we had you baptized, and that was a very special day for our family. Uncle Greg and Auntie Doll and their little girls came down from Spokane to stand as your godparents, and Fr. Murphy who married us celebrated your baptism. You were a champ, although you fell asleep right before the ceremony, so you did NOT like that cool water hitting your head. You still love taking nightly baths, so I was quite surprised, but I guess we don't bathe you right after you fall asleep, so I understand your discomfort.

We're in the middle of tax season, and it's tough because we don't get to see your dear ol' dad as much these next couple of months. Some nights he comes home and asks if you've grown that day. It's true--you change so quickly. Each day that passes is a double-edged sword: We see these glimpses of you as a little person more than as our little baby. Your personality is starting to shine. But you're no longer our newborn baby.

Thanks for the days when you let me hold you for your naps, when you think everything we do is fun and funny, and when you actually don't spit up on a fresh outfit or soil a fresh diaper. And thanks for the not-so-fun days, too. You're making me a better person, and you've certainly slipped right into the rhythm of our family. The adventure is just beginning, and we are so thankful you're the one on this ride.

Love,
Mom