Monday, January 18, 2010

Dear Mason,

Time is flying by way to quickly. You are quickly approaching your 5 month birthday, and that scares the hell out of me. Every day with you is a blessing, and each smile, laugh, and each funny new noise you discover make my life full. You sure have been a grumpy Guss lately, but I think it's a phase of life for you. Trying to figure out how your hands work, that toys don't disappear forever when you drop them, and that when Mommy puts you down it doesn't mean I'm going to leave you lying there for hours.

The days of quieter (although still blood boiling in their own right) newborn cries, milk drunk naps lasting hours at a time, and tiny baby arms and legs that didn't kick and slap Mommy constantly, are over. Times of high pitched baby squeals, gurgles, and raspberries, messy feedings, and bath time that results in Mommy drenched in your sweet smelling bath water due to your overenthusiastic splashing, have arrived.

I feed you in the morning, and in most cases, this is when you are the happiest. You lay in your pack and play and check out your mobile while I take a break for some coffee and breakfast (and the occasional blogging). But my favorite time with you is nap time. Here lately you absolutely refuse to go to sleep on your own (even though Mommy knows you are quite capable of doing so). So I get to bring back those sweet newborn days of holding you in my arms until you fall asleep. Sometimes its a struggle, and you kick and punch me, but you eventually fall asleep and catch flies as well as some ZzzZzz's.

I will hold you and rock you, cause babies don't keep.

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew
And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo
But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I've learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

- Ruth Hulbert Hamilton

I hope you'll always feel comfortable with me. Not just to fall asleep in my arms, but to share with me your goals and ambitions, your mistakes and fears, your loves and your life.

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