Letters to Charlie: Month 3

Dear Charlie,

You brought me to tears this morning while I was feeding you a bottle. For a good reason.

I started singing Elton John’s “Your Song,” which you decided was the funniest thing you’d ever heard (don’t worry, I won’t take it personally). You beamed and squealed and let out a gush of giggles.

Charlie, I hope you have children of your own one day, because there is no greater sound than hearing your baby laugh.  The joy that filled my heart – it was like golden sunshine.  My giggles turned into tears. Then your father started getting misty, and before we knew it, we were a puddle of blubbering love.

I hope you don’t mind
I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

This month you transitioned from newborn to infant, and it happened fast. One day something clicked and you had yourself a schedule: up around five, naps every two hours, down around six, an occasional middle-of-the-night feeding. Gone was the fussy, unpredictable guy – just like that!

You began reaching for and grasping objects (including mama’s Prada glasses, oh joy). You smile. You giggle, although we have to work at it.  You use your arms to push up during Tummy Time.  You try to stand when we hold you up. You found your hands and toes!

One morning you reached up to touch my face while I changed your diaper.  I won’t even try to describe that moment.

I went back to work this month. It’s killing me to be away from you so much, especially now that you’re so interesting. There are days I feel like walking away from my job, when the heavy weight of missing you feels too much to bear. But I take comfort in knowing that millions of other moms work, that they’ve all felt this way, and that they’ve gotten through it.

Because we see each other so little, I mother the crap out of you (sometimes literally) when we’re together. We laugh and play and cuddle and bounce and have the most precious moments. I am desperate for you to know how much I love you.

This was another month focused on your poop. I took you to the doctor a few weeks ago because you suddenly began letting loose explosive diarrhea, several times a day. How fun that was for your father and I! Doc said you were fine.

She also weighed and measured you. Charlie, you’re one big dude. At 10 weeks, you were almost 15 pounds (94% percentile) and you’re height – 26.5 inches – was nearly off the charts. During your vaccine appointment on Friday, you were weighed again: nearly 16 pounds and not even 12 weeks.

Charlie, you change the way that your father and I see the world. Never has a tree seemed so amazing, a pattern so wondrous, a color so vibrant. My dear boy, know that you are loved. That you bring joy to so many lives.

Now it’s time for me to end this letter because you just let out the most cacophonous poop imaginable.  You’re staring at me from your bouncy seat with a big smile on your face and a look that says, “Ohhhh yeeaaah.”

I have no idea what awaits me.


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3 Responses to Letters to Charlie: Month 3

  1. Erika says:

    LOL! Adorable letter and love, love, love the postscript. The joys that come with parenting. =)

  2. This is exactly what I mean by motherhood “changing” you. You never knew joy before this.

  3. Tara Kawar says:

    I had a similar moment yesterday when “Brown-Eyed Girl” came on the radio and I looked at Stella and got all misty. She’s recently started giving hugs, and … well, the first time Charlie toddles over and puts his little arms around your neck, you will lose it.

    And baby laughter = magic. I have a little video clip of Stella laughing that I watch when I’m having a bad day at work or just need my fix. 🙂

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