To the divine miss m:

You are four months old today. It was a normal Thursday for you in most respects—church in the morning, hanging out on my lap, on your tummy, in the swing; home in the afternoon, hanging out with Free to Be (formerly Retired Office Manager) while I worked; soggy grins at whomever was nearby. But I can’t believe it’s been that long. And I can’t believe it’s been that short.

You have found your voice. Squeals, giggles, shrieks. Yesterday you were spread out on a quilt in my office, screeching, and I heard the woman one office over start laughing. Later that day, Senior Pastor came running in—“I just got off a tough phone call, I need a kiss from a baby!” You are our pastoral care.

The good news is, you are a routine napper now. I can nurse you to sleep easily, and we can almost set our watches by your 9 a.m. nap. The bad news: you are awake enough in the world that we need to respect your need for dimness and quiet. No more napping from errand to errand.

Last night you slept from 8:30 p.m. to 6 a.m. Thank you, my dear.

While lying on your back, you like to thrust your legs into the air and slowly r-o-l-l to the side. You’ll make it onto your tummy soon. You also have started grabbing things. Nothing is safe.

You’re still not a fan of the bottle or the cup, but you will eat enough to allow me a few hours without you. By the way, there are 168 hours in a week, and you are with me for all but 15 of them. I counted. That’s a lot of “on” time with a baby. Nonetheless, I miss you even when you’re asleep.

You are just now growing into your exersaucer. You and C play there together and seeing you next to her reminds me how small you are, because to us, your life is much bigger.

Love,
Your mother