Dear Fraser,
Yesterday I felt a crispness in the morning air--autumn is on the horizon. And just as summer always does, it crept it, then stepped on the gas, and zoomed right on by. We're in our last few weeks of summertime bliss. Seasons of change.
You're just two months away from turning one whole year old. How did we get here?
Now that you're on the move, every day is challenging. Some days I joke how much easier it would be to go off to work and have someone else follow you around, ensuring you don't stick your fingers in the non-baby-proofed electrical sockets, splash your hands in the dog's water bowl, and pick up every stale crumb off the hastily mopped kitchen floor. And let's not even talk about your obsession with cords!
But every day you amaze me, and I feel so fortunate I can be with you every morning, afternoon, and evening. I still can't believe you're my baby.
You continue to light up the room, the grocery store, the swimming pool, or just about anywhere I take you. I love that you smile almost always on command, and there have been only three times when the sight of someone unfamiliar has caused tears. Your dad continues to say just how social you are. I love it.
You've been quite the adventure baby. You've already been hiking several times, and being in the great outdoors continues to be our calming mechanism for you. We took you on your first camping trip in our "vacation home," as Dad likes to call it--a great big tent above his truck. You slept better in that thing than you do at home, which is quite incredible because you are a good sleeper. You're still just waking up earlier than I'd like.
You're eating most things we put in front of you, with banana, eggs, watermelon, and corn on the cob being your personal favorites. Let's talk about this corn for a minute. I had been cutting the kernels off the cob when I wondered what would happen if I gave you the whole cob. One hour and 15 minutes later, you were still as content as could be in your high chair, gnawing on that cob. I realized it was the best teether on the planet and have been using this time-sucking distraction device sparingly.
We've spent a lot of time with family this past month, which has been great for all of us. Uncle Joe, Auntie Sara, and your cousin Audrey welcomed sweet baby Claire last month. She's just one of the girls now, and I have a feeling watching you three little ladies grow up here in Portland will be very entertaining. Your cousins from California came up twice, with our big Benz family gathering taking place over Nana B's birthday weekend (more on that another time). And we found our your auntie Whitney is going to have a baby of her own next year--your first cousin on Dad's side!
I continue to think you probably like the same things most other babies your age do, but I now know your love of water might be a bit more excessive than the norm. You and I have been taking swim lessons together the last couple weeks, and you have no fear. You've been dunked in our lake here in town, Elk Lake, and the Deschutes River, proving the temperature holds no bearing on your enjoyment. One point of particular hilarity is how mellow you are in a floating device. Whether it's Phyllis the flamingo floatie or a raft built for two, the moment you're on your own just bobbing along in the water, you're 100% content.
Your smile and your look sure have changed over the last month, with the addition of your four teeth, especially those top two buck teeth with the big ol' gap in the middle. You're babbling a lot, saying "dee-dee" every time we see a dog on a walk, "nana" when it's banana time in the morning (and a bonus for both your grandmas who go by "Nana"), and "shut," when you close the closet door. Oh and of course you say "dada" even though I don't think you realize what you're saying.
I wish I could slow down time, but it's true that each new phase brings such excitement. You're definitely not my little baby anymore. We see these glimpses of who you are and what you'll become. Strangers continue to note how you're "never not moving," and your legs are just always flailing around. Neighbors continue to note how vocal you are--including the volume of your screams. Once you get a bit older we're going to have to work on that "indoor voice." And our family knows just how special you are, a real firecracker already. Never would I use the word "mellow" to describe you (unless you're in a floating device as noted above). Of course we're biased, but you have a big personality already, little lady.
Thanks for being a great sleeper and only waking up when something is really bothering you (ahem, teeth). And thanks for giving mom a break with really good naps from time to time (note: certainly not always). And a really big thank you for liking the stroller and not minding the car seat too much. I hear horror stories all the time, and since running and walking are my salvation, I really appreciate that you don't mind the rides. Thanks for enjoying the kitchen basting brush and spatula more than real toys, and I'd appreciate it if you stopped your fascination with touching the oven sometime soon.
This post must come to a close because it's 6:07, and you're awake. Hey, at least we're getting past the 5 o'clock hour, right?!
I love you very much, Fraser Mary. You are one of a kind.
Love,
Mom
