Darling Boy of Mine,
The days are passing like minutes on the calendar; where have nine months come and gone so quickly? Today you are the same in age as the amount of time you spent tucked inside my belly, growing into that sweet, small, dependent babe we met face to face just three quarters of a year ago. Still the same Henry David we named you in those very first moments, now you are coming into your own in new ways all of the time.
What do I want you to know about where we are in this very moment? I wish I could capture so much more of you who are than I’ll ever be able–wish I had a replay button to catch every little expression you make. But then, who could keep up?! One of the things I marvel at most about you these days is your ability to light up any room. It only takes a moment, but with one funny face or laugh or nod you have us all softened and attentive to your next entertaining act. You pull me out of a bad mood or a sour day like nothing else can: a blessing to my spirit in a way only God could fashion…
On a lighter noter, you are outgrowing all of your pajamas!…and your socks and onesies and nearly anything else you’ve been wearing as of late. Your army crawl is getting to be more of an army run–nothing gets in your way if you’ve set your eye on something across the room. There are still no teeth in your sweet little mouth, but we think they’re very close. I doubt you’ll make it to your first birthday without a few pearly whites to show off when you dig into cake. You’ve added breakfast in the highchair to your repertoire, making that three square meals a day and milk inbetween. You will eat nearly anything we put in front of you, and finger foods have quickly become regular entertainment. Kruger is also a source of interest all day long. The poor dog loves you and doesn’t know what to do with you all at the same time. I hope you’ll both soon learn to play well together, and I trust a best friendship isn’t far down the road.
When dad gets home from work each day, we eat together at the table, play on the floor, splash around at bath time and always make sure to read a story (or stories) before the end of the day. We continue to pray health and safety and faith and joy over you, trusting that God will look after you and care for you in ways we can only supplement as your parents. When we say goodnight, you always look behind you and over your shoulder to see us leaving–not so ready for our time to be over but tuckered out after a busy, play-filled, action-filled day. Life is never boring with you as we mark your new discoveries and celebrate what a delightful little boy you are becoming.
I’m not ready to give up on you being a baby just yet, and as our first, I probably never will be. You are still cuddly and cozy and dependent and hesitant in all of the right ways, while fiercely independent and curious and adventurous in others. The contrast is striking to me as your mama, honored to have a front row seat as you change and grow so remarkably in this all-too-short amount of time. I’m so thankful to have three months between us and your first birthday, because I still want to take in “Baby Henry” for as long as possible. I don’t want to rush it along or wish it away or think too far ahead. You are marvelous just as you are, right at this very moment.
Nine months feels significant, because you’re surpassing the amount of time you lived in-utero by the amount of time you’ve been in the world. Suddenly, you feel bigger to me than I can contain, although I’m not sure why I’d want to try. You get better and better with every day (and I never thought it was possible!)
I love you beyond my ability to express it. So proud to be your mama. So blessed to watch you grow.
on the other side of a different kind of 40 weeks ;)