Dear Davis: Month 4

Dear Davis,

Look at you! You're sitting in a Bumbo seat, smiling and flailing your arms around. You're certainly not a newborn anymore.

In looking back at the photos I took between months three and four, and well, they're scarce to say the least. I'm sorry. We've been on the go, hosting visitors, soaking up the last bit of the late-summer sun (it's been incredible, to say the least), and chasing after your big sister. You've been along for the ride, per usual.

We had your four-month doctor appointment, and I was very concerned I wasn't getting you the rest you deserved. The doctor assured me you'll tell me what you need, and he's right. You're great at letting me know when you need to take a rest in your crib instead of on-the-go or in the stroller for the fifth day in a row.

You started rolling over to your stomach in your sleep, and I think you're much comfier this way. The doctor said I could stop nursing you in the night and that now is the perfect time to sleep train you. It's like you were just waiting to hear the doc say this because that very night, you slept straight on through till 4:30 in the morning, which you know is my favorite time to be awake, anyway. Thank you, Davis. You're just a champ.

I hope you know how much you're loved. How Fraser asks, "Davis awake?" the minute I walk into her room in the morning or after her nap. How your dad can't wait to say, "My man!" when he walks in the door after work. How anyone you meet can sense just how laid back and agreeable you are.

Our days end with exhausted laughs after putting Fraser to bed because of her non-stop energy, and they end with smiles and loving sighs after putting you down...you're just the best little guy, and we still can't believe you're ours.

Thank you, Davis. You make us so happy and proud.

Love,
Mom

Dear Davis: Month 3

Davis,

If I don't get this posted, you're going to be four months old already!

You continue to be a jolly soul, but you've already come down with your first cold. I blame your sister. That sweet thing didn't get a cold until like 12 months or something crazy...but you, you who never did anything to her...well, she can't keep her mitts off of you, and I blame her.

From months two to three, we hosted our dear friends the Bolgens, and you were a champ sleeping in your bassinet until close to daybreak. I didn't have to worry about you waking anybody up in the middle of the night. You've been a great sleeper, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous for the dreaded four-month sleep regression. How about we just skip that part of infancy, huh? Back to the Bolgen family...we had the best week of adventuring, eating, wine tasting, beer drinking, kid wrangling, and laughing. You were a wonderful addition to the crew and will be chasing after Fraser and Jack before we know it.

At the end of August and beginning of September...you sat through (and sometimes slept through) your sister's swim lessons and trips to the park so she could run free, and you're settling into the rhythm of the stroller just fine. The weather was HOT, and you, my friend, are like your dad and sister and apparently run very warm because we experienced a couple of overheated Davis days. I'm sorry about that. I'll remember not to bundle you up too too much once the weather cools down.

Dad took your sister camping for a night at the coast, and you and I had a great day just the two of us. Lots of snuggling and errand running (fun for me, not so much for you, but thanks for being a good sport!), as well as your first Coug game (pretty sure you slept through all of this--how rude!). And I'm mentioning this because I don't want to forget how the carbon monoxide alarm went off in the middle of the night and would not stop. It was frightening for both of us, and I apologize that I was just wandering around the house looking for a fire instead of grabbing you and running to the street. It was a good practice run in case of a real emergency and quite hilarious that it would happen the first and only time when your dad and sister just happened to be gone. Thanks for sleeping through most of it.

We talk a lot about how crazy and energetic and spunky Fraser is, and when both of you are finally asleep, your dad and I just smile and say you're such a good little guy. Thanks for going with the flow so much. The days are flying by, and you're really just about four months old. We are gearing up for a big road trip, and you're going to cross state lines for the first time (not counting Vancouver). We hope you like adventuring as much as the rest of us. Something tells me you will.

You have the best crooked smile and you still have that little dimple. Thanks for being you, Davis boy. We love you oh so much.

Love,
Mom

Dear Davis: Month 2

Dear Davis,

Well, it's now the 21st, so I suppose I better get this written.

From months one to two you continued to be a chubby, jolly, mellow soul. We took you to the coast, and we went to Sunriver for your first visit there. You really enjoyed both, though you got overheated in Sunriver, which was kind of scary for your ol' mama.

Fraser continues to push your buttons, and you're a pretty good sport for the most part. I don't think you like getting kicked in the head or having her shove her finger in your mouth, and you really don't like when she tries to wake you up when you're not ready. But you're taking this little brother thing pretty well for the most part.

I can't thank you enough for the nights you've slept from the time we put you down till the morning. What a joy! You just seem to know what we need, and you're very "go with the flow." People ask me how it's going with two little babes under the age of 2, and I have to say it feels like you've been here all along, and you don't make our days any more difficult or challenging.

Davis, you're such a sweet and calm little guy. I wonder who and what you will become. I am sorry I don't get to spend as much time doing tummy time or holding you as I did with your big sis, but as soon as you're a little bigger (and your neck is a little stronger), I have no doubt you will be wishing a certain someone would put you down and stop wanting to play with you all the time. Fraser has big plans for the two of you and most of these involve getting dirty, climbing, exploring, riding bikes, and looking for adventure in general. So get your rest while you can. Stay little for as long as possible.

You are my heart, now, Davis (of course right alongside Fraser). Thanks for joining our family.

Love,
Mom

Dear Davis: Month 1

Dear Davis,

Well, you're officially six weeks* (I started writing this one week ago!), and your birthday was on June 11, so this is a little late for a one-month post. I'm sorry, but the days are flying by.

Just like Fraser, you were induced, and we thought you'd come on the 12th, but there was a baby bonanza at the hospital, and they called and moved up your induction. We went to church the morning of your induction, and on the way out we ran into the head pastor who gave us a nice blessing for your safe arrival. And we had the same hospital room as we had when Fraser was born. We thought these were great omens heading into your birth.

Everything was moving along so fast, and then all of a sudden it wasn't. The lovely doctor (who had a fun name, but not as fun as Dr. Batman who delivered Fraser) thought something seemed a bit off and did another ultrasound, which showed us you were sunny-side up. You were just stalling, I think. Who wouldn't want to stay all warm and cozy inside? Once the nurses had me lie on a peanut ball, you turned, and you decided it was time right that second. The nurses and doctors weren't prepared at all for me to say "I think the baby is coming," but they radioed for backup, and had me do these slow-down pushes, and after just a few big pushes, you flew right out. I knew you were a boy before they even turned you toward me.

We had no idea what we were going to name you. We had a few names, and Davis was on the list, but at the last minute I had cold feet. Your dad and I Googled names for about three hours in the delivery room. We spent quite a few hours after your birth trying to decide just who you were. You're Davis Norman, of course. Norman was Taylor's papa, and a very good man I'm told. And since your arrival, you've been such a mellow guy, that I know you have more of your dad's side of the family in you than mine. You see, your big sister, Fraser, is a FIRECRACKER! We've never ever used the term "mellow" to describe her, even when she was bitty. So, thank you, Davis, for being the perfect complement to Fraser.

You've had great nights since the hospital, especially the night one nurse told me I wouldn't get a lot of rest because you'd probably be up all night wanting to eat. On the contrary, that was the most restful night ever--I think you woke up once? Your days are restful when your sister isn't in your face, and you quickly learned to like the carseat and the stroller. We're on the go a lot, so I'm happy you like to move. We've been on a couple hikes and a couple day trips already, and you've been a champ for all. I'm sure you've known since you were in my belly that we like to be outside, exploring, and seeing new sights. We might even get a camping trip in before the summer ends. I can already tell you're up for anything.

This last month and change has been wonderful, challenging, and perfect. It's like you've been here all along. Thanks for making me a mama all over again, and thank you for bringing more joy to our house than we thought possible. In all honesty, I was really scared to meet you. I didn't know I could possibly love another baby the way I love Fraser. Moms kept telling me your heart just expands, and now I know that's completely true. But I think my heart did much more than expand. I think it exploded and began again as a heart that knows nothing but the two beats of my two babies right along the beat of my own.

I love you, Davis. I can't wait to see what you bring to the world, you peaceful little soul.

Sincerely,
Mom

*Must write your birth story before I forget the details!

Letters to Fraser: 1.5 YEARS!

Dear Fraser,

I thought I'd be writing this on your 18-month birthday, but here we are just passing your 19th month on Earth.

If I had to describe you at this juncture in life, I'd probably lead with...

You.Are.A.Wild.Woman.

Words cannot describe how much joy, love, fun, and insanity you've brought to your dad and me. You  keep us laughing, and you keep us running. There's no rest for the weary or those who are on Fraser duty. You march to the beat of your own very loud drum. So many of my hopes and fears are actualizing as we continue to progress into this mother-daughter relationship.

For example, you not only fell down the wooden stairs on the back deck leaving you with a bruise on your forehead and one on your eyebrow, but you somehow tripped and fell and had a bleeding cut on your other eyebrow, all of this after you poured an entire bottle of bubbles over your head. Just an average Sunday in the backyard for you, my dear.

You are as independent as they come, rarely looking my way when you dart across a playground or into the woods or even into a dark room. You don't seem to be scared of anything, except you get a little shy when something very exciting is about to happen, like right before the train passes our house and the conductor looks to wave back at you. You get a bit of stage fright now and then, in the oddest of moments.

Life is about to change in a very big way for all of us. Your baby brother or sister is just moments away from joining our family. It delights me to think of you as a big sister, but it also has me terrified because you are the center of my world right now, and I can't imagine life without you as my only sidekick. I know people say your heart expands...the bonds of siblings are incredible, etc., but this is my current fear.

And the world is a crazy and sad place right now. I know you will always fill it with the brightest light you can. You already have a "can do" spirit, pointing to yourself with both your thumbs saying, "Shay-Shaw," which is how you say your own name. You want to wash your own hands, open all the doors, go up and down the stairs unassisted, clip into your carseat, walk the dog, get the dog his dinner, ensure you have ice in your water cup at all times (this is a real fun stalling technique right now), and last night you even tried to cart both of your little table chairs out to the back deck for dinner. You are a real riot.

There are a few things that turn any of your moods around instantly, the first being kids. You love saying "kids," which is kind of lispy right now and sounds more like "tids." You like seeing kids, you LOVE hearing kids play or scream in the grocery store, and you're just so curious what other kids are doing. Today I took you to a clothing store and didn't have you in a stroller (which was a mom fail to the tenth degree!), and you saw a girl who was probably about four picking out clothes and putting them into a cart. You wanted to do that, too, and started yanking every item of clothing off the hangers. You're a copycat and a parrot, and your imagination is incredible at this stage.

The doctor says you are advanced in your language. Since I've never had a baby before you, I didn't know that all kids your age aren't as verbal. You try so hard to say a lot of words, and you have a handful of songs you demand us to play or sing so you can join in. You LOVE leading prayer at night and offer your friendly hands-folded "pay-r" reminder if we forget to pray the minute we sit down to dinner. You also like to give "peace" at church and your new thing is the holy water and blessing yourself. All of these things make me laugh and make me proud.

Your love of the outdoors and of animals continues to grow. And after two live hockey and basketball games, you became obsessed with these sports. Don't tell too many people, but our TV was on quite a bit during March Madness, and I think that's where you really picked up your "shoops" (hoops) habit. On the night of the final when your dad was still working, I was getting your room ready for bed, and I stopped hearing the pitter-patter of your toddler feet running back and forth across the house. So, I walked out into the living room and saw you with your two favorite stuffed animals and your blanket sitting on the couch, clapping and watching the game. Then you said, "Mama," and pointed to the spot next to you on the couch. That was a memory I wish I had recorded, but maybe writing it down will help me never forget.

I'm just so thankful you're in our lives. You bring a lot of joy to strangers because, for the most part, you're a pretty happy little lady. I can still take you to the store and on walks as long as we have lots of snacks, and new environments don't intimidate you. We made it through tax season just the two of us, and I think I'll look back and cherish that time. We'd have Friday night dates at Whole Foods where you got to eat all your favorite things at once and people-watch all the other kids and families eating dinner, too, and it was probably during this time you picked up your fondness of "peet-zah."

And just a few weeks ago, we moved just a stone's throw from our "old" house so you could have a big backyard to explore. We have grand plans for lots of adventures here, and we think it will be a wonderful home for our family to grow. I thought I'd feel worse moving out of the house in which we brought you home from the hospital, the place where we made so many memories as a family of three, but the old saying are true that home is where your heart is, and as long as I'm with you and Dad, I'll be happy forever.

Fraser, I'm so nervous and scared to be a mom to anyone but you. All I know is your big, bold self. Thank you for being a ball of energy, especially at this point in my pregnancy, when I can't hardly bend over and when some days are a little too physically demanding for me. I know I can do anything because I have you, and I want to be able to show you that you can do anything, too.

I know I've left so much out. There are so many things that make you you and so many "isms" that have us laughing at night after we put you to sleep. My words aren't as eloquent as I'd like right now, and I feel like I am barely stringing sentences together at this point. I'm blaming the baby. Please know how proud we are of you and how we see such extraordinary things in your future. Thank you for giving me the best gift in life of motherhood. I know I've made a lot of mistakes and learned so much from you. You are the biggest blessing. I will cherish this year-and-a-half together forever.

Love,
Mom