Six weeks or so...

Jack, you're a big boy. Today you weighed 12 lbs 4 oz and were 23 1/4 inches long. You're in the 90th percentile for height and weight. Good thing you're proportionate! Your head measures in the 94th percentile. I hope you use that big brain for something fantastic.

We're still getting to know each other. You smile at me and talk, talk, talk. The pediatrician commented on how vocal you already are. I think we may have a little motormouth on our hands. You come by it honestly, dear son, and I hope it doesn't get you in trouble in school. When I read Dr. Suess to you, sometimes you just take over. I let you read for a bit. Don't worry, you'll get the rhythm down soon.

Your darker baby hair has been receding and in its place is pretty, pale blond fuzz. You'll be a towhead like I was. Right now it still looks a bit like a mullet, but I love you just the same.

You're growing out of your clothes. I admit that I teared up a little yesterday, looking at you in my favorite blue onesie, how it's s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d to capacity over your long frame. I don't want you to stop growing but, baby, I haven't caught up yet. Where is my newborn? I'm still astounded by the responsibility - you REALLY need me. But I'm already getting a glimpse of the day when you won't. Ah! Now I'm the one getting ahead of myself.

You're still a good baby with a penchant for grunting the night away. I'm glad you're sleeping, but Jack, could you swap your quiet daytime snoozes with your fitful nighttime slumber? Thanks. Mama appreciates it. No matter how desperate I might feel at any given morning moment, you smile and I know that's how I'm surviving. I want the best for you, always, and smiling back - even when I might want to cry - is what I'll do.

You're the first person I've dared to love more than myself. My love for you is big and mighty and capable of amazing things. I'm so grateful to be your mom.

Now, show me your muscles. There you go...



photos courtesy of Gram