Hey, Baby.

Dear Jack,

Today you are two months old. I feel like I'm always talking about how big you are, maybe at the expense of sharing other great things about you. You truly are a large child, but that's all there is to say about that. More importantly, you are such a sweet kid. Before you were born I read a lot about babies and about being a parent. Probably too much, I'm afraid. I came into the whole situation a bit more paranoid than I've had to be. Anyway, by now, the books say I should know your personality. If that's the case, then you are a sweet, happy little man. Most often you wake up with a huge grin on your face, a grin that you toss at me all day long. You squeeze your shoulders up to your chin and smile, smile, smile. Sometimes when your belly hurts or you're overtired and starting to fuss, you still want to smile. You alternate between pouty-lipped cries and grins.

Bathtime seems to be your favorite time of day. I think we all look forward to it. You love the water and smile and me and Daddy the entire time you're in the bath. Lately you've starting trying to "jump" out of the bathtub. You scoot your little tush up and splash water out. You stare and smile at yourself and me in the mirror. I've named that mirror friend "Zack." You get a little fussy in the evenings these days. I think you are taking in so much that you just can't stand to be stimulated anymore. You need a little bit of comfort and then you sleep for a long stretch.

Your nicknames these days are Goose and Hounddog. How did you get these nicknames? You're a loudmouth, that's how. You talk all the time! You coo, you grunt, you howl, and you make all kinds of vowel sounds. Lately, you've started fake coughing. You must like the sound you make because you just keep going, aheh, aheh, aheh. You read with me and tell me your own stories. You seem to prefer pages with yellow backgrounds and let me know with your voice. I can't be totally sure, but you seem to get a little louder if I look away.

In a lot of ways, I think I've been hesitant to even say out loud that you are a "good" baby. I don't think there are bad babies. I don't want to jinx us, though! Like if I say it, it won't be true tomorrow. But, baby, tonight I'm saying it. You're a good baby. A sweet boy with a million dollar smile. The best thing I've EVER done, and my most beautiful blessing.

The joy of my heart.

Love,

Your (still) Starstruck Mama.