2:21 p.m. - 01 November 2004
Itís such a clichť, but I have to say: I can hardly believe that youíre four months old today. Youíve gotten so big already that when I saw that newborn in the pew behind us at church Saturday night, I had a hard time remembering that you were that small just a short time ago.
You can do so many things, too: roll over (even if I havenít actually seen it yet Ė your father assures me that you can), reach out and grab toys to put in your mouth, sit and stand up with some help, and that doesnít even take into account the wide variety of noises you make, either. You have a wonderful belly laugh, but your giggles, coos, and screeches are no less delightful to me.
And even though the time change has you a little off your game, Iím still very thankful that you sleep through the night more often than not. Last night was the first time Iíve had to get out of bed in the middle of the night in at least a week or so. It probably has something to do with me figuring out the best nighttime diapering solution, too; youíve slept much better since I started putting you in a Fuzzi Bunz all night rather than a Wonderoo.
There are still many times when I catch myself thinking, "Holy cow, Iím someoneís mother." I feel a tremendous sense of responsibility now, even though youíre still young enough that a lot of the decisions that I make day to day wonít turn you into a zombie. Iíve even started taking better care of myself: you may not believe it, but now I weigh 30 pounds less than when I got pregnant with you. Your daddy can hardly believe it himself, since he didnít think Iíd ever see the numbers on the scale start going down.
It scares me a little, quite frankly, to think of all the things that weíll have to teach you, and all the things with which youíll need help and guidance. Even with all your accomplishments so far, youíre still pretty helpless. Just donít grow up too fast, son: be my little boy for a while longer.
Happy monthday, sweet pea. I love you.