June 4, 2014
Lincoln, my little buddy,
Today you are seven months old. How can it be true? How can you already be closer to one year old than the day you were born?
You sweet boy are more of a boy than a baby to me now. You can sit up all on your own and you can eat real food and you radiate joy out of the smiles and laughs that you gift us with daily.
I have no idea how much you weigh or how tall you are because we are in Colorado, in the middle of nowhere, and I haven't seen a scale in over a month. But you do feel heavier, even thought your pot belly is slimming out daily. And you do seem taller, especially when you try so hard to stand on your own.
You do, though, radiate a joy always. I pray that it's a joy from the Lord. I know surely that the Lord instilled a joy in you that he knew your momma needed. That after a year of tears he sent you to me, a picture of his unending joy. And every day you've made me smile at least once if not a hundred times, even amongst the poop and the crying and the fact that your skin is freaking out a bit up here in the Colorado air.
Just a few nights ago you slept for an entire eight hours straight. I woke and I thought for a second you must be dead, because you'd only slept at most five hours in a row before this. The next night you slept 7 hours in a row and I do hope you've decided to make this a pattern. I love you dear little one, but your momma wouldn't mind if you let her get a few more minutes of sleep now and then.
I mentioned your skin and it has been freaking out. I don't know if it's the altitude or the dry climate or something I could be feeding you or what your very own pediatrician called "fat baby rash" but your chubby little legs trap sweat and heat and the back of your knees are crusty. We're healing it now but I'm sorry if it somehow scars you for life.
I'm learning.
You talk to us all the time now, in your own little language, and you smile in delight when you figure out a new sound or a new tone. I love your voice. I love that you stare into my eyes and smile and talk as if you love me more than anything or anyone in the entire world. I know someday you you'll love another lady more than me and I'm okay with that, but for now, feel free to keep loving me, okay?
Your daddy makes you laugh more than anyone. He can make you giggle or tickle you until you can't breathe and you get the hiccups for hours. There's a way you love him that's special too. I pray he's always your favorite man.
My growing little boy. I love you. I can't believe you were once my little baby and I can't believe you will, in the blink of an eye, be 18 and leaving for college...
Happy 7 Months.
Love you always,
Mom
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