3 whole months!

Dear Carter,

You’re no longer a newborn anymore. You’re officially 3 months old and we cannot believe how much you’re growing and changing every day.

First and foremost, I have some big news. The most amazing thing happened this month: YOU SLEPT! The sun is brighter, flowers are more fragrant, the birds are cheerier, and the world is a beautiful place! One day right after you hit two months I think you must have realized that sleep was a good idea after all. You napped without a fight, and stayed asleep longer than I’d ever seen you nap. A week or two after that, you started sleeping longer at night. And, OH MY GOSH, it was fabulous. I woke your dad up in the middle of the night to ask if he had been up with you and maybe I just somehow slept through it (HA, as if that would happen), and he hadn’t, so my first thought was that something terrible had happened and once I figured out that you were just fine and snoozing away I wept tears of joy. The prolonged sleep deprivation may have had something to do with the tears. We’re still working up to full nights of sleep now, but you are well on your way.

In general you’ve just been a much happier baby this month. You’re still the same snuggly, funny, adorable little boy, just a little more laid back. Much less screaming, fewer demands, lots of smiles and laughs. You’ve gone from an angry dictator to a happy baby. I’m afraid I’m jinxing it by typing those words, but my goal here is to capture the last month of your life, so I have to be honest.

You had more adventures in the first 12 weeks of your life than some kids probably have in a whole childhood. It’s just too bad you a. won’t remember them and b. slept through most of them. This month we went to the zoo again, I took you to the beach for the first time, and you attended your first birthday party. You may not remember much but I promise the pictures are cute. You can just call me the mama-razzi.

You are growing leaps and bounds developmentally. You smile and laugh ALL THE TIME now. It’s the greatest thing ever! You talk constantly, although I can’t quite figure out what you’re trying to say with all of that babbling but it sure is cute. You’re grabbing things now, too. Of all the wonderful toys we went to the store and actually paid money for, your hands are your very favorite. In fact, I think you may need a 12-step program. The brief seconds in which we must separate from your hands to pull your shirt over your head (and your head is enormous, so that takes a little while. Clothing designers did not have you in mind when they designed shirts) or wash those little fingers when we bathe you almost require an intervention. For a little guy, you’re quite strong and you do NOT want to be parted from your dear precious hands. As much as you love them, you’re just beginning to figure out that they might be, like, connected to you or something. Your dad calls it a standoff- you stare at one of them with a look that he narrates: “It’s you and me, hand. And you are getting in my mouth!” You proceed to very slowly pull said hand toward your mouth but it usually ends up in your eye, crashing into your ear, beating your forehead, and THEN, oh sweet, sweet victory, IN YOUR MOUTH! A few days ago you actually reached out for a toy, grabbed on, and proceeded to attempt the same path to your mouth. Let’s just say you haven’t quite gotten that skill down, but it’s mere moments before you are grabbing at everything and promptly sticking it in your mouth. We’re in trouble.

This has been a month of change. Not surprisingly, nothing has phased you. I had to go back to work last week, which was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done. You were completely oblivious. You’re quite lucky to spend the day with your grandma where you get more attention than is probably healthy. Your auntie Anna left for college in New York, which was again harder for me than for her or you. On the way home from saying goodbye to her I told your dad I’m locking you in your room until you’re 25. Maybe longer. He’s trying to talk me out of it, but I’m still contemplating it.

Last week marked the 8th anniversary of September 11. It’s hard to describe that day and what it meant, but just know that I hugged you a little longer that day in remembrance of the incredible brevity of life. I even ditched my structure and parenting theories and let you sleep in my arms instead of putting you down in your crib. I’m pretty sure one nap won’t ruin you and at the end of the day, if you feel safe and cared for and loved, I feel like I’ve done my job.

Love,
Mama