fantastic four!

Dear Jack--

Someday, when you can't wait to greet your daddy at the door for a game of touch rugby, I want to remember this time in your life--this period that is bittersweet in its brevity--in which the sun (or is it son?) rises and sets between you and me. Your little face is the first one I really see each morning and mine is often the last you see at night. That said, you hate to go to bed. You get this from me. Your daddy does not mind bedtime one single bit and on the rare occasion that he does fall asleep on the couch before he takes himself off to his room, it takes only a word or two and he shuffles away. You are not like this. You require more than a gentle nudge. You require lulling and singing and bouncing and shushing and still sometimes we find that the best thing is to let you tire yourself out (just a little) with tears before bedtime. Believe me, I understand the urge to fight it. I have been rebelling against bedtime for decades now. I have also been tired for about 25 years. So, I try to be patient with you because I know that even when you can't keep your eyes open, it's nice to feel like you are still in the thick of things, that you won't miss out on anything good, that you are safely within arm's reach of the action. For this reason, as we jiggle and rock and lay down beside you, I often find myself whispering in your ear that you are indeed safe and snug.

After all, we haven't given up swaddling you--even though you are probably getting too long and strong for this. It's just that your startle reflex still seems strong and it causes your little arms to fly over your head and wake you up at the sound of a loud laugh. And baby, there's plenty to laugh about in this house!

Actually, while you have a smile for just about everyone, you have been slow to laugh. We've gotten a couple of "heh heh"s out of you, but only after dancing around and shaking our heads like fools. Basically, you go in big for physical humor at the moment. On the other hand, you aren't really a fan of other people's laughter. Several times this month, a group of people has started to laugh around you and it makes you jump and cry. I am reminded of how it felt to say something in a crowd of grown-ups and have them burst out laughing when I meant to be serious. It can be hard to be a kid.

You're beginning to hold your own though--and some of my stuff along with it! You reached for some papers on my desk the other day and it was one more reminder of why your days at the office are numbered. (even though we really do love having you there. you have won the heart of even the most hardened baby-digusted. it's that cheeky little smile.) I'm excited that you'll spend the summer with Daddy and I'm excited to be able to type out a four line email in under an hour again, but I will miss you all day long. I just know it.

Anyway, you reach for things and grab them and bring them to your mouth. Often, you look like a puppy with a chew toy as you shake your head and a sad stuffed bunny writhes between your gums. (As an aside, I fear you may be an early teether.) You are ferocious in your determination to get what you want or to get going.

When things get really tough and you just won't settle, we take a walk outside. You watch for birds and cats and squirrels and suddenly you are quiet and contemplative. This makes me think that Daddy's prediction about you (before you were even born) could well come true. You may just be an eco warrior based in Australia. Well, if you are an eco warrior in Australia, little bunny, I will be peace that brings you home again. At least for Christmas!

love you always and always,
mommy

three's a treat!

Dear Jack--

I checked the calendar today and realized that the 11th has rolled around (and quickly) again. You are three wonderful, chubby, cheerful months old and, though there is not much left of the newborn left in you--even your feet look smaller as your legs have gotten fatter and longer around them--it is hard to be sad when it clear that you are a boy with lots of joy.

Your smiles break in waves and I know several people who compete to see how long they can keep you grinning. If you could talk, I think you would say that your poor cheeks hurt sometimes. Bibi and Grandaddy told me that I didn't even start to smile until I was your age and now Daddy says about once a day, "man, it must have been tough to have a serious baby." It's true. Your gummy grins reassure us that you kind of like living with us. Good thing, huh? I mean, you're growing up fast, but not that fast.

Other people have commented that you seem to have more hair. I'm not so sure. Maybe you lost a little and gained a little, but I think you've come out about even in the end. It does seem to be decidedly auburn at the moment. Daddy can't believe it and wonders where that comes from. Silly Daddy.

We really don't know who you look most like. You've got my hair and Daddy's lips and Aunt Lizzie's eyes and Uncle Theo's whole--what's the word--visage. But really you are your own little man and I suspect that someday when we look back at pictures of you, we'll wonder less about who you look like and think that you look most like...you.


Your little personality is starting to develop. When you're at the office with me, you are pretty patient and able to entertain yourself for short periods of time. I can put you on the playmat in front of a window and you'll kick and grab at your toys for at least twenty minutes before you realize that I'm not standing over you. Once you figure it out though, nothing will solve your tears but a cuddle. You follow people around the room with your eyes and seem to recognize several voices, but you STILL HAVEN'T FIGURED OUT THAT YOU WON'T DIE JUST BECAUSE THE BOTTLE IS NOW EMPTY. You don't nap well at the office because you don't like to miss out on the action. During the weekend, you sometimes make up for it with marathon naps. I guess Daddy and I just aren't entertaining enough to keep you up.


Bathtime is less of struggle. So is mealtime for the most part. You still go down pretty easily at night. But you have started to HATE the car seat. We don't go anywhere that you don't cry for at least the first ten minutes. The guy who operates our local Starbuck's drive-thru thinks I am a terrible mother because he only sees you when you are in full meltdown mode. You are even beginning to stiffen your legs when I try to put you in the seat so that I can't get you in it very easily.

If you are stubborn at three months, I shudder to think what three years will look like.

Actually, you are also just very physical. You don't like to be held like a baby unless you are eating. Otherwise, you'd prefer to be "standing" on a lap or being held kind of like a football. You do this great thing when you are standing where you kind of paw the ground with one foot--like stomp, stomp. stomp, stomp. Such a cute little pony boy. But I think we're going to have to bolt down the furniture in a couple of months because you've got the strong legs of a climber and the will to do it.

When it comes down to it though, Daddy and I think you are about the sweetest, funniest, cuddliest, cutie-est, most gorgeous boy we could have ever hoped for and even though we used to go out to the movies and wear clothes without poop on them, we wouldn't trade anything for these last three months.

love you always and always,
mommy

two-riffic months

Dear Jack,
Two months! Man, it flies by. Sometimes, I think I can literally see you growing in my arms. Now that I know you've gained four inches in the last six weeks, I know I was right.

We're starting to settle into a routine as a family. Actually, we were getting the hang of things and then I went back to work and you and Daddy and I are still working on finding equilibrium. The balance between work and play has always been hard for both of us, but I promise that we're working on it. (See what I mean: working on play. ack!) I wish I could say that once we get the hang of this, it will be steady-as-you-go easy and that we'll know what we're doing and we'll never forget your diaper bag or show up late to a meeting or come home with work to be finished. Our life together (before you and with you) has been an awesome adventure so far, but adventures aren't adventures without twists and turns and I think we'll all have our fair share of those. Besides, no boy who grows as fast as you do can be that adverse to change!

On that note, you are wearing size 1 diapers. You outgrew the newborn diapers at about five and a half weeks. It probably would have been sooner if you hadn't lost a little bit of weight in your first week--and if your mother had noticed that the newborn size was starting to look like a speedo on you.

This month you are sleeping for longer periods. You go to bed between seven and eight every night and then you get up again at about 11 and then again at 4 or 5. You still take at least three naps each day, but when you are awake, you are more alert every day. Whether eating or sleeping, you go from zero to sixty in four seconds. That is, you are perfectly content and then, well, you aren't. You are learning how to fall asleep on your own. You aren't learning that YOU MUST TRY TO BURP AT THE END OF EVERY MEAL. Instead, you scream as soon as the milk is taken away and only once you've let out at least one whopper of a burp and been given a pacifier do you really calm down. We go through this between seven and eight times a day.

This month, you and I went to San Antonio four times. What a star traveller you are!! I hope this means you'll eventually be up for a trans-Atlantic flight. Let me just say that while there are many, many disadvantages to having half of your family in another country (like missing them all the time) there are some perks when they live in Europe and not, oh I don't know, Kentucky. Just remember that it takes as long to get to Kentucky in a car as it does to get to London in a plane. And there are no potty breaks in the car. Or opportunities to eat anything. Not with your Grandaddy.


You have adapted wonderfully to going to work with me. We usually stay for about six hours and you nap and eat and play. You also get loved on by all of my coworkers and any visitors who happen to stop by. You are far more popular than I am. At the end of the day, after all that attention, you are wiped out--and so is your mother. While it isn't ideal to be back to work so soon, I find it easier to make this transition when you are no more than a few feet away. I'm just not ready to give you over yet.

In the last couple of weeks, you are doing some social smiling. You are super sneaky and it is hard for me to catch it on film; actually, it is nearly impossible. Once you get a little bit better at it, I am determined to capture it as your smiles melt me. And you are a pretty laid-back little guy, so I think we may just find that you are smiling all the time soon.

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be a mother and I have wondered whose mother I would be. (When I was a little girl, I would pretend that I was being interviewed about my life story. I had a million fantasies about what it would be like to grow up.) Now, I know. I am Jack Stafford's mommy and I can't imagine it any other way.

Thanks for letting me begin to know you.
Love you always and always,
Mommy

one-der boy.

ten things i want to remember from your first month:

1. the way you excitedly put your hands to your face and pant when you are about to eat. sometimes, you snort, too.
and yet, it always makes me think of an polite little old man who is bowed over by the generosity of a great gift. it is this quality about you that also makes Daddy and me think that if you were a character in cartoon, you would be a happy little mouse.

2. you are fascinated by the lights and by the family photos in the living room. you could stare at your extended family for hours. we hope you'll get to meet your English relatives some day soon.

3. your dad was pleasantly surprised that your, "poo doesn't smell like real human poo yet." boys!

4. sometimes when you cry, you sound like a baby pteryodactyl.

5. you absolutely hated your first christmas present.

6. you also really hate baths.

we think that you inherited this tendency from Biz, who is twenty-five and still hesitates to shower sometimes because she doesn't "like the feeling of being clean." maybe this is the same since you never cry because your diaper is dirty, but you often cry when we change it.

7. your eyelashes are long and light and lovely.

8. you flex your toes when you are satisfied with the rate at which you are being fed.

9. even though you have less than a cupful of hair (as Bibi would say), you still wake up with bedhead.

10. you don't do social smiling yet, so you are a pensive little person. when you are sitting and thinking, you remind me of a baby version of Uncle Theo.

(and one to grow on...)

11. you do know me--even if you can't really see that well, even if you can't speak or smile yet--i know that you know me. i can comfort you even when you cry like your heart is breaking.
may it always be so, sweet boy.