Posted by: expectingamiracle | August 8, 2009

Dear Matthew

Dear Matthew,

You are 3 and a half months old now.  You have dark blue eyes and light fuzzy hair that I think will be dirty blonde like mine.  You have a thick patch of brown hair on the bottom back of your head that reminds me of a little old man.  You have little pudgy baby arms and legs and a dimple I could fall into when you smile. 

The surest way to get to you to smile is to smile and talk to you.  You break out into a gummy grin and melt my heart.  You laugh now, but there is not much telling what is going to tickle your funny bone.  Usually it is me saying something to you, but you don’t usually laugh for the same thing twice.  You make me step it up a notch and try to find a different silly thing to do and make a fool of myself.  Which I happily do, if I can hear that laugh. 

You are very vocal, you love to talk.  Lately when you are in the car you say “ooo, ooo, ooo!”  over and over.  You squeal on your changing table.  You imitate us saying “hi” or “hello” and you blow raspberries.  The photographer who did your 3 month old pictures commented that you were very talkative for your age.  All I can think is won’t it be a trip if your dad and I have somehow produced an extrovert?  Your Nana thinks your talkativeness is a sign of intelligence.  Who am I to disagree?

For about a week you were waking up at 7:15 a.m. and you would lay in your bassinet and just talk to yourself for about 5 to 10 minutes and then fall asleep again for another hour.  That was when you were sleeping 8 or 9 hour stretches, which by the way, was great, and you should totally start doing that again.  For some reason, whenever I say anything online about how you are sleeping through the night, you regress and stop doing it.  Obviously I need to learn to keep my big mouth shut.

The time is passing by way too quickly.  I wish I had written more about your newborn days, but honestly, I was just trying to survive.  They were sweet, sweet days though, when you were so tiny.  You can ask me sometime and hopefully I will still remember, how we sang “Happy Birthday” to you in the hospital the day you were born, how you screamed when I dressed you in your coming home outfit, about the first poopy diaper that I changed (okay, maybe you don’t want to hear about that), the sleeping against our chests, seeing how much your dad fell in love with you, the reflux problems (note: I will probably block this from my memory if I can).

Sometimes I look in the rearview mirror in the car and see you asleep in your carseat, or I look down at you as you’ve fallen asleep in my arms while nursing and I can hardly believe it.  That you are real and you are mine.    I am exceptionally lucky.  I rock you and put you down in your bassinet and kiss your head and I know that I am living my dream. 

I love you little bitsy bear.




  1. Very sweet. He’s a lucky boy.

  2. That was really lovely. He is a lucky little guy

  3. Lovely *wub*

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