Dear Kid: Month 2

Dear Kid,

As I write this you’re fast asleep on the couch wrapped up like a burrito…a wrap I’ve become quite adept at creating because basically IT SAVES OUR LIVES you really like it. Your dad is leaned up against the couch watching you sleep because as of late, the two of us find that everything else is uninteresting compared to you.

You’re TWO MONTHS TODAY! That means that we’ve managed to keep you alive for 62 days, but who’s counting, really? You’ve gotten so BIG! Like, even your lineman of a father was all “my shoulder’s all jacked up from holding him” big. THAT big. 12.5 lbs big.

Speaking of him, can I just say that you’ve given me the best gift by being able to give HIM the best gift? Honestly, Semisi, these past two months I’ve never seen your father exude such happiness, and I can confidently attribute all of it directly to you. He’s not much of a gift exchanger…hates receiving gifts as a matter of fact (I KNOW...Christmas time at our house is TORTURE for him)…but giving him you? I know this year I NAILED it. I’ll never be able to top this.

Your dad changes more diapers than I do, as a matter of fact. You continually thank him for taking on this duty by giving him a run for his money every third change or so. I can always tell when you’ve been able to “get him good” by waiting to finish the job when the cold air hits you, because I can hear your dad say, “Ohhhhh, you little bugger…” because he CANNOT call you a little shit. He just can’t. Because he likes you that much. I would challenge any other person on the planet to shit on your father and have him respond in that way. (That one night when you got him THREE times? That was epic. Well done, Son, WELL. DONE.)

I think I could even go as far as to say that your presence in our lives has brought the two of us even closer together. We rarely bicker anymore because you’ve given us a perspective that basically reminds us that little shit that we used to worry about really doesn’t matter a whole lot anymore. The only thing we fight about is the proper way to give you a bath. (For the record, I do it right.) (Please remember to tell him that when you can speak.) (Don’t tell him I told you to say that, obvs.)  (This will not be the last time I put you up to something like this.)

These past few months with you have been the most challenging and most memorably happy months of my life. Very difficult to describe that dichotomy, but I can say that it’s been 100% worth it. You’re such a sweet little guy. Today you got your first shots and it absolutely killed me that they interrupted your cooing and smiles with shots in your chunky thigh that made you scream bloody murder. But then…THEN!...after it was all done and I picked you up you immediately quit crying and gave me the biggest open mouthed grin I’ve seen as of late (and you smile A LOT). That was about all I could take, because that’s when my heart melted to the point that it actually seeped out of my skin, leaped down to squeeze your cheeks, and buried itself in between your chin and neck, WHERE IT WILL LIVE FOREVER AND EVER AMEN.

Because really, you’re the best gift I’ve ever given myself…and all you do right now is smile and poop and sleep and eat (and occasionally throw out a drama bomb…but hey, you are MY KID after all). We know what you look like…what your smile looks like…your hair (you already have enough hair to give yourself a good case of bed head). But other than that, your life is a blank canvas waiting for your touch...and frankly, I can’t wait to see how you’ll paint the world around you.

I had a friend once who told me that the day her son was born, she felt more loved than she’d ever felt in her life. I didn’t understand that before I had you. Now I do. Thank you for that.




  1. And you were worried about your maternal instinct, remember? REMEMBER?? Like, you were worried that you didn't have the proper requisite amount of it? And I said something profound and wise and helpful and ole mommyish, been-there-done-that, as I recall. Something lofty and probably annoying like, "I was worried about that, too, and then it was all okay and Adam was so cool and cute and I fell in love with him blahblah blahdeblah goobleydoobly areeyoulisteningto me blahsomemore..." and I was right, huh? I knew you'd be a loving awesome mother. And that damn baby is so freakin cute I can't hardly stand it. Jeebus. I'm jealous that you have someone to change diapers, too. It was all me, all the time, bleargh. Kudos to Paul. There's nothing in this universe like a good dad. NOTHING. Except a good mom AND a good dad. You are really doing good, aren't you? WOW. I love it! Post more! I get rilly happy every time I see a new post about that BABY.

  2. Are you kidding me? Your boy is just TOO handsome for words.

    And the smiles and coos get me every time. EVERY. TIME.

  3. Love! We need to get together soon!

  4. Dude. I laughed, I cried, and my ovaries hurt.

    You're awesome, and so is that little bundle of beautiful.

  5. I love that picture of you guys! Awesome!

    (Have you noticed how I overuse the word 'awesome' when I comment on your blog? I find that awesome.)

    I know Semisi will LOVE reading this when he's older (much older, like dad-age, because before that it will just be mushy and gross). I really need to write more posts like this to my kids, instead of just embarrassing them with the stupid stuff they did. :-)


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