Letters to Fraser: Four Months

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

We had a LOT of snow here, and this is one of our favorite spots to take Bowen. 

Vintage Benz outfit...you're a champ when I dress you up!

You have many toys, but this one is your absolute favorite.

A typical morning around here...

Showing off your muscles.

Always a bib on you, my dear.

Whoops--guess this one is a little blurry...

 

Your Valentine card outfit...another vintage Benz ensemble...stay tuned for all of Fraser's Valentine's outfits in the next letter. 

We're not quite sure if you're big enough for this, and your face says neither are you.

Still loving the mirror...

And tolerating the selfies we send to Dad at work.

You and your "cousins" Caroline and Lily.

Your newest talent is sucking on your toes, silly little one.

Letters to Fraser: Three months

Dear Fraser,

I'm in mourning.

I packed up your bassinet and moved it out of our room today. You've been in your crib for three nights now. I really didn't want to move you, but you're just too long for that whicker cocoon. The first night was rough. I could tell you weren't comfortable with your new surroundings. To tell you the truth, I wasn't really either. I brought you back to our room for a few minutes, but then I realized that wasn't the solution. The next night was better, and last night you seemed to be back to your old soundly sleeping ways, waking up just once in the night.

You're very adaptable. It might take a little bit for you to settle into something new--like sleeping in a Pack N Play or a crib--but once you do, you're golden. We try not to be too rigid with our beloved little nighttime routine, but you still just love your bath and settling into sleep not long after.

And much like your first weeks, you continue to be a mover and a shaker. We had our annual sleepover with your cousin Hazel, and you rolled over during tummy time for the first time on her watch. You now roll both ways, which scares me half to death. I don't know if this is early or right on track, but there's something about the way you flail yourself all over the place that makes me wonder if we've got a bit of a daredevil on our hands. I just read that new parents should ask their parents what they were like as babies because often times the next generation baby will be similar in pattern. Well, I don't know how I was as a baby, but I do know my mom had to jump in a swimming pool with all her clothes on when I was a toddler because apparently I thought I could swim on my own. Lord, help me!

You're exercising your newborn reflexes less and less, and I hardly see your Frankenstein arms anymore. I've been crying a lot because I realize you really aren't a newborn anymore. I know everyone says the stages just get more and more fun, but I just loved watching you, holding you, and caring for you as a newborn. You must have sensed this or something because the other night when I finished nursing you, your eyelids fluttered, your eyes rolled back into your head, and you gave me those unconscious smiles that were the highlight of my middle-of-the-night newborn moments with you.

You know your mom and your dad, and you perk right up when Dad rolls into the house after work. You don't mind bopping around in your little chair while I make dinner, but sometimes you'd rather be worn in a wrap so you can really see what's going on. You know your dog, Bowen, and I'm sure you like it when he licks your face. Everyone in this house knows I sure don't.

We've been stuck inside a lot lately with this weather. We read and play a lot, and you've already picked favorites among your toys. You're no stranger to the cold weather, though, and you fall right asleep once you're bundled up and we head out for a walk.

I'm not sure what the next month will bring. You're so much more alert. You're using your voice, cooing, and letting us know when it's time for you to take a rest or eat. Every day is different with new excitement and challenges. We've been so blessed to see you growing and thriving.

I am so proud and thankful to be your mom, already, Fraser Mary.

Love,
Mom

Greenberg's birthday party sure looks different with all these kiddos now!

Your friend, Johanna, who is just two weeks older than you!

Your bestie, Ellery.

Cousin Audrey in your sweaters from Mimi.