I know it’s sort of cliche, but I was thinking in honor of Mother’s Day that I would write Harper’s 3-month post as a letter to her. So here goes:
So many people have said to me that three months is when babies start to turn a corner, becoming less fussy and more fun. Not that the past three months haven’t been fun. But they have certainly been the wildest three months of my life. So I have to say it’s true. At three months you are full of smiles, babbles and raspberries. You seem to be picking up a lot more with your eyes, and you’re constantly trying to figure out what to make of your hands and feet. Your pouty lip when you start to get upset is so cute I have to hold myself back from laughing.
The best part of my day is walking into your room when you wake up in the morning. You used to cry to be picked up, but now you just babble in your crib until someone comes in. Then you smile a huge grin, as if to say, “I’m so glad you’re here!”
I know every mom thinks this about her child, but you are off-the-charts cute. From your chubby cheeks to your round belly to your adorable toes, you are infinitely kissable. I probably give you at least 100 smooches a day. I love your auburn hair, especially the way it sticks out in all directions, just like your dad’s. Your eyes are such a pretty bright blue. I’m not sure they’ll stay that way, but according to my limited knowledge of genetics it’s a 50-50 shot. I could stare at you all day and I pretty much do. When you’re resting on my lap after a feeding, with a little dribble of milk running down your chin, it just kills me.
So far your personality seems to be that of a girl who knows what she wants (how familiar). You love to eat (also familiar) and you love being outside. In fact, we spent so much time toting you around outside during the witching hour(s) that we ran into some neighbors with twins born on the exact same day as you. They were out walking, doing the same thing. In fact, I’ve made a lot of new friends through moms groups. We have our babies to thank for bringing us together, which is pretty cool. Imagining you all eventually crawling and then toddling around together is even cooler. Also terrifying.
All that eating has made you grow and grow. Some days I notice you growing out, some days growing up. You’re already in a six-month sock (which you definitely didn’t get from me). All those growth spurts come with a lot of middle-of-the-night feedings. But generally you are like your mom — you love a good night’s sleep. Thank goodness! You don’t love to nap, though, so we’ll work on that.
Your lack of napping has made me realize that I can’t be the relentless multitasker I used to be. When I’m with you I have to slow down. Dinner might come together over a three-hour period. TV watching comes with a lot of DVR pauses. Orders get made, but much more slowly. In short, I can’t do everything I want to do the minute I want to do it. And that’s what parenting is all about. There are great sacrifices. And there are big smiles. It’s a wild ride. Some days I have wanted to get the heck off. But other times I am so overwhelmed with love for you I couldn’t possibly put it into words.
I am really looking forward to this next month with you. You’re getting closer to being able to hold your head up and grasp things with your hands. You kick so much I’m thinking we need to get you a jumper thingamabob. You’re on the verge of giggling, and I can’t wait for that. For you, everything is new and anything is possible. I can’t imagine being on this ride without you, peanut.