Celebrating Henry’s first Christmas at home with our little family was such a treat–and Aunt Bridget and Uncle Teddy’s visit made it even more grand. Some of my favorite pics from Christmas morning (and our fab five later in the week, sans Christmas pj’s:)
Everything through the eyes of a babe is so filled with wonder…
what’s not to love?
mm
Dear Henry,
Tonight is the last night of 2011, and you are finally asleep. I understand why you didn’t want to let it go–staying up nearly three hours past your bedtime and fighting with all your might to stay awake. It’s been a very big year, hasn’t it bug? This time last year, your dad and I celebrated in grand fashion, anticipating you and all of the change we thought you might bring. In some ways, we were right about 2011–about you and how you’d teach us things like patience and selflessness and priorities and love (and you’ve done an admirable job). And we were right about how we knew you’d capture our hearts and enhance our family and fill up our days, but there was so much we didn’t know. We pulled into 2011 preoccupied with getting ready for your arrival, and the winter flew by. Before we knew it, the time had come to welcome you, our perfect bundle, into the world.
Somehow, eight months have gone by since then. Eight months. Your birthday is still so clear and poignant to me that I hardly believe it sometimes. Time is flying by so quickly, I’m a little nervous to blink. Each time I turn around you are mastering something new: clapping, high-fiving, waving, giving kisses, drinking from a cup. You army crawl wherever you want to go, pull yourself from sitting to standing, take steps with help and kick a ball when encouraged. You laugh when I make crazy noises and tickle your toes, and you wake up smiling almost every single morning. I look at you a million times a day and wonder, “How did we ever get so lucky, to be entrusted with you?”
As of late, your new faces and antics have those of us around you in stitches. You blow raspberries when you’re frustrated, furrow your brow when you’re focused and clasp your hands together in excitement when anything delights you. Drumming has become a favorite activity, while race cars and trains captivate you wherever we go. Story time is still one of the best times of the day.
Your first Christmas has been epic to say the least–six Christmases in six days, with travel and family dynamics in between. There’s no doubt you understand tissue paper and wrapping paper, ribbons, bows and bags at this stage of the game. You’ve uncovered gift upon generous gift, eyes wide at every turn, taking it all in. As your mama, I could have skipped the presents altogether–the simple joy of watching you in action as you learn and discover has been the highlight of this whirlwind week. Every night as we fall into bed, I thank God for the gift you have been to this family, bringing beauty and life everywhere you land. We couldn’t ask for more…
You do, little darlin’. Yes you do.
I can’t get enough of your contagious giggle or the way you wave your arms and legs in excitement when you’re on your belly–as if flailing them around enthusiastically will get you where you’re going:) You’re a little ball of energy, even past 9pm. A night owl (like your mama and daddy) to be sure.
At seven months (+ 5 days) old, you’re the life of the party. Just ask our relatives. You make the whole room happy. Your first Thanksgiving was one celebratory (and traveling) meet and greet after the next, and despite not feeling too well all weekend, you were still bubbly and personable everywhere we went. And while you grew all snuggly and sad at bedtime, you still tugged at my heart through the night as you curled up on my chest to sleep–sound and sweaty and precious, giving me purpose in the most perfect way. If I haven’t mentioned it before, I love being your mommy.
I’m sorry I’ve not written more to you these days…they are flying by so fast, and you’re changing so much! I tell myself I’ll just take all of these moments to soak everything in, and then they’re gone in an instant. I hope someday I can remember enough to tell you all about how amazing you were at this age. You are. And I’ll try to do better at documenting all of the important things, ok? Like how you’ve added apples and bananas, pears and carrots, sweet potatoes and pickles(!) to your repertoire (not to mention banana-flavored puffs in your highchair that you pick up and eat all on your own). You are such a growing boy!
You’re rolling around the room like a pro as of late. I walked away for thirty seconds this afternoon and you had an entire pile of diapers and diaper bag items strewn about in no time. There’s a lot of baby-proofing conversation around the house these days, and it’s all in prep for your little, wiggling, moving, curious self. We’re excited for you to crawl, but to be honest, I’m enjoying you as a self-sitting, semi-stationary babe while I still can. You are going to keep me on my toes in times ahead, no doubt.
Tonight, we took you to your first light parade downtown. We watched from the second story windows of dad’s office as thousands of Christmas lights passed by–you, marveling especially at the big trucks and all of the twinkling going on down below. Your awe at every turn reminds me just how magical the simplest things can be…like my favorite moment of the day:
…and you, in your seven month old wisdom, fully embracing the scene, engrossed in what’s beautiful around you.
The world is magnificent from your vantage point, and I get to be along for the ride. Light doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface, Henry dear.
a little blurry, but that face! oh, the joy you bring!
love you to the bright, bright moon and back.
mom
You never cease to inspire me, HD–you, with that beaming, wide, toothless (and contagious) grin. Over the past few weeks, your sense of humor has blossomed. Add the right intonation or pitch to any random word and away you go, squealing and giggling away. I love how you always pick your chin up when you laugh; how you arch your back off the floor and kick your legs in excitement, assuring me of your approval. Your toys are funny. Rubber blocks are funny. The number “fourteen!” is funny. You continue to light up our lives.
As of late, you have quite the opinion, my dear. Your delight or disapproval is clear as day. You love bath time, story time, jumping in the jumparoo. The baby in the hallway mirror is fascinating. The baby lotion bottle? Even better. You are decidedly not a fan of putting a shirt over your head, waiting an extra few minutes to eat, or hearing the bark of a small dog. Your winter coat? No thank you, mom. The evidence before me would suggest you are exactly your age. Indeed.
In recent days, you’ve hiked dunes (with a little help), proven a perfect backseat travel companion, conquered rice cereal and oatmeal, attempted to crawl (but it’s still kind of a scoot in circles on your tummy), grown even more enamored with our big black pup, and learned to sit up like a pro. Mommy would be so tempted to start growing another little person like you, because you are such an absolute joy…but really, I selfishly want to soak up some more Hank time one-on-one before anybody else comes along. I just love everything about you.
I’ve never made friends with as many strangers as I do now with you in tow. I love how you strike up a conversation, igniting connection and community around us without even saying a word. It’s the most beautiful thing. You make this world a better place for being in it. You do. And I don’t just say that because I’m your mom.
smile away, my babe. smile away!
mm
p.s. Fourteen!
I am more absent here than I’d like as of late, and I know I’ll look back and wish that I’d somehow better documented all of the wonderful that is filling up my life right now. But the days are so full. And I go to bed SO late. And our growing boy gets up when he gets up–as all mothers reading this most definitely understand.
I am not complaining in the least bit, because truthfully, I love the moment in the morning when Henry’s head peeks over the side of his crib with those big eyes surveying the day and saying, “Hello, Mommy! I’m so glad to see you! And I’m SO hungry! Please pick me up so I can be all kinds of cuddly and lovey. It’s MORNING!!!” It’s pretty much the best thing ever…well, besides the snuggling before bed and all of the cozy in between. I looooooove being Henry’s mom. (But you knew that.)
So yes, the days are full, and full of all of the exact kind of things I imagined they’d be when I became a mom, plus a few more added in for good measure. I’m finding I spend little time on Facebook or browsing the internet or “window shopping” online anymore because there is little time to do it–and I’m grateful. Life has adjusted in such a way that I’ve swapped those things out for the fullness of one-on-one interactions with Hank and closer, more personal relationships with the moms, friends, family and world around me. It feels good. And at the end of the day, I am authentically and perfectly worn out. God is sustaining me each morning for whatever lies ahead of me in that 24 hour span of time. Thank goodness He is so attentive to my needs–even those in the categories of energy, patience, willingness, gratitude, rest, and peace on a daily basis. And his grace is the thing that gets me through to the next bit, and the next. We serve such a generous God!
Tonight, I have the chance to be in bed close to midnight, and I’m going to take it. I’m going to take it and run! But before I do, a few moments I have loved over the past few days and weeks…a few spaces where all of the grace and generosity and blessing pile up, sit at my feet, smile and gently say, “You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.” Oooooooh, life is so full of beauty I can hardly stand it sometimes. And I mean that in a very good way 🙂
full. oh so full.
mm
