My dear boy,
We’ve finally reached an armistice. A sleep truce.
Yep, I’m writing this letter five minutes after plopping you in your crib — wide awake — for the night, and I haven’t heard a peep out of you. It’s similar every night and during naps. If you do fuss, it’s only for a few minutes before you begin babbling and drift off to sleep.
HALLELUJAH, WE MADE IT.
Now that going to bed isn’t so traumatic, you really are the happiest baby on the block (mom and dad are much happier, too). That 10-tooth smile of yours is infectious. Your giggles are like sunbursts through our house. You find everything hilarious — from new tastes, to the clothes hanging in my closet, to the cats’ fluffy tails.
It’s been a busy month. We celebrated your birthday with family and friends (you devoured the cake; atta boy!). You visited the dentist for the first time. And you experienced your first Halloween.
I have to apologize for Halloween, actually. To complete your amazing costume (a lumberjack, get it?), I added a “beard” to your cheeks using brown eyeliner pencil. You wailed, which I thought was because you were being restrained by Dad. But when I washed your face that night, I discovered it was streaked with bright red slashes from where a sharp edge of the pencil cut up your face. No wonder you cried. I’m sorry for hurting you, little man.
I feel like we’ve begun having real conversations. You started to use baby sign language; “cat” was your first word, no surprise there. Now you know dog, milk, all done, and down. You’re getting close to saying mama, dada, and up. Through a combination of babbling and body language, I can tell what you’re thinking sometimes — like when you want to go for a spin around the living room in your Little Tyke Coupe or go outside to play.
You point to your head when we ask you where it is. You can show us “nice hands” when you get too rough with the cats.
You’ve discovered the moon and look for it every night. You know the sound of my keys jangling the lock on Grandma B’s door, and you run to greet me at the end of the day with squeals and smiles.
My favorite development this month is your love for music. You wiggle your tush, sway and pump your legs when you hear us hum or play a song on the phone, or when a toy makes music — even when we’re not in the room! Grandma Z sings a “Shake-a, shake-a, shake-a, shake it if you can” tune that turns you into Baby Stevie Wonder.
I also love your budding relationship with Charlie. My dream in life is for you to be close friends, and my heart swells to watch you play together. This evening, you spent 10 minutes together in your room. At some point, Charlie lifted you into your crib and climbed in next to you, and I caught you two jumping on the mattress and roaring with laughter.
My dear Jack, I could go on and on. However, tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I’ve got pies in the oven. We’ll all be gathering at Grandma Z’s to eat yummy food and share gratitude for our blessings.
You bet I’ll be saying thanks for you.