Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Dear Sarah - four months

Dear Sarah,

I'm a terrible mom as in, at three months I didn't write you a letter. To my credit, it fell right around your baptism and we had a lot going on. If you ever are blessed with a younger sibling, you can now boast "See, she didn't always write to me either!".

Truth is, there is SO much to share about you, it's hard to find time to write it all down.

This month, you lost your dear sweet, great-grandmother. I plan to tell you all about her when you get older and can understand just what a wonderful woman she was. You'll learn that often times, family only gets together at weddings and funerals and this was no exception. But the perk - you got to meet your Uncle John and Tia Cat earlier than expected, PLUS you were passed around to all your great aunts, uncles and...2nd cousins (we think...we couldn't figure out their relation to first cousins). Your great aunts decided they were too young for their title and surely it just means "exceptionally awesome aunts" or something to that extent.

You were a champ on the plane despite the one incriminating photo your father chose to take right before we changed your diaper on the plane. It's floating around somewhere, but I have your back and will not post it here. ;-)

They all oohed and ahhed over you and you were your usual ray of sunshine which brought us all joy in the midst of some pretty intense sorrow. You don't have any cousins of your own yet, or second cousins once removed (or whatever it would be...), but I'm pretty sure you passed baby fever on to a few. In fact, they all agreed they would consider children if their children were as pleasant and easy as you are. I was then asked to be a surrogate, but by now, you've heard your story and can understand when I quickly nixed that idea.

Your dad and I have so much fun with you. You interact with us on a regular basis now, smiling, cooing back and forth with us, and letting out some of the most infectious high-pitched giggles I've ever heard.

These giggles are also nothing but excuses for us to continue tormenting you with things like blowing raspberries on your belly...

You are growing like a weed and although six months clothes swallow you trim body whole, you are 24 1/2 inches long. All footed sleepers are now at least marked 3-6 months, if not 6 months, and some of your onsies won't snap because you're so long. (Ok, your big fat diapers don't help...). However, hold fast that you were at one point this small:

You love to stand up "like a big girl". If we hold you up you will plant your feet firmly and balance yourself to stand up as straight and as tall as you can manage. Usually, you smile and giggle with great accomplishment as we praise you for this! You also prefer to sit up and while you still need a little help with keeping upright, it's not going to be long before you do it yourself.

You're curious about everything around you and no longer like to be held facing us. Nope, the world is much more interesting than my boring old face. You follow sounds with your eyes and head. Much to my dismay, you LOVE tv or anything with a screen. Your papa let you watch your first cartoons while we were home and you thought they were magical. Sesame street was a big hit.

After your dad and I take a video of you doing something cute (which is all the time), you will watch it with us, mesmerized with the sights and sounds on the screen.

You're quite the wiggly worn and have learned how to roll over by yourself. As much as I manage to try to put you to sleep on your back, you have discovered you prefer your side and stomach a whole lot more. I try not to worry about you too much because you can lift your head high for quite a long time now, so I just pray you'll do that if you need to breathe!

We just bought you a jumper that clips onto the door frame. It's too big for you so we stuff a blanket behind you, but you've decided this thing is awesome. You also enjoy sitting in the bumbo and your swing is still a favorite!

The blanket below you was to help stabilize your feet between the hard wood and the tile floor, but it was also a spit catcher. You're a droolin' fool with teeth that want to make their debut in the world. While we were in TN, I may have bought you a bib that said "I spit orange." and by may...I  mean...I did.  I can't let you forget your that your heritage runs from the heart of East Tennessee.

We also got to visit some friends from college while we were in NC. I tried to get you a shirt so you could spread the word about that great Lutheran university in Hickory, NC, but alas - they missed their big publicity opportunity with a bookstore that was closed. We did however, introduce you to the man, the myth, the legend: Pastor Weisner.


We took you to the Tap Room with our friends Cory and Jessica after we enjoyed some rousing organ music and fantastic worship at the Episcopal church where Cory serves as organist. I could swear we took a picture with them, but I can't find it.

We also took obligatory pictures of you with the big Bear on campus and the new Luther statue. Unfortunately, we took them with your dad's iPhone. Hopefully by the time you read this, Apple products will figure out a way to be compatible with the rest of the world and they'll let me save pictures to my Samsung (non apple product). That - or non of these two companies will exist anymore...

Bottom line kid - you're loved more than you could ever know. Four months is just as joyful as the other months and watching you grow-up is a privilege I will never take forgranted.

Thanks for letting me be your mom. 
 Love and raspberry kisses,

No comments:

Post a Comment