ten months

dear caleb b,

i happen to be writing this letter after i spent the past hour trying to get you to take a nap.

so you know whatever nice things i say about you, i really, really mean.

happy ten months, little man. when you were a newborn, i would think ahead to the day when you'd be older and could communicate more and tell me what you wanted. and today i find myself thinking back to the newborn days and wishing i could have glimpses back. i want to see little you again. the little you i could carry in one arm. who would swing in his little swing and watch the cricket on his mobile and smile. who would see dotters and couldn't get enough. who would fall asleep in our arms, if everything was perfect, and you'd stay there for hours. who would cry that sweet, pathetic baby cry every time you didn't have our undivided attention. who wouldn't fill out his clothes . . . ever. who would stretch those baby stretches and make me feel like the luckiest person on earth.

the first time you smiled. the first time you laughed. the first time you held my shoulders as if it were a hug. the first time a tooth poked through. the first time you had a fever and we thought the whole world had stopped. the first time you sat up in your high chair and took your first spoonful of food.

can you blame me for remembering all of this today? you are getting farther and farther away from being a little baby and inching closer to being a little guy. you are full of personality. you like things the way you like them. you wont go to sleep unless everything is perfect for you. and when we get tired of trying, we just lay you down and know you will yell for however long you need because that is just you.

you are mobile. which means i can't turn my head or take my eyes off of you for a second. you race down the hallways. you grab everything. and when i say "no" you look at me and smile and sometimes you stop and sometimes you don't. i have to watch you at all times and i kind of love it because it's hard to take my eyes off of you anyway.

you love your daddy. more than me these days, which makes me sad sometimes because i always want to be the arms that you long to be in. but then again, i get it. your daddy is pretty amazing.

and as particular as you are, some days you just catch me off guard. like when we take you to see santa and you act like a pro. or when we take you on your first flight and you are a dream child ... giggling, laughing, falling to sleep easily.

when i look at you, i see the cutest, most snuggly, most stubborn and independent, most needy, most loving, most giggly, most sweet, most wonderful little boy. i see grace. because i never did a single thing in my life to deserve you yet i have you.

you bring me joy, caleb b. and i love you.

mama

baby z

in the hustle and bustle of everything that is four days before christmas, i can't stop thinking about her. she is ready to make her entrance into the world any day now.

baby z . . . we are praying for you every day. you have us all smitten.

really? this is our santa picture?

okay. i admit i was a skeptic.

our little man doesn't go to just anyone so easily. and most every baby who is handed off to santa has it rough their first time around ...

but we get to the mall. a week before christmas. i stand in a great, big line while luke and caleb do laps in the stroller. i meet sweet and funny people around me. they make caleb laugh. and when it comes time for caleb b. to meet santa ... he couldn't be happier.

go figure.

aww. another memory i will never, ever, ever forget. my little man meeting santa for the first time. i love.

tidbits.

we are now only a week away from christmas. we may take caleb to see santa today after his nap. i am thinking that won't end well, but as a wise woman once told me, "you have to take caleb to see santa ... it's just what people do."

less than a week until caleb boards his first plane to take his first flight. i am going to resist the urge to apologize to the other passengers in advance if he cries the whole way. but who knows? he just may love it.

i tried on a pair of pre-pregnancy jeans just for fun the other day. and they fit! but they are the only pre-preggo jeans that fit me right now. nonetheless. i am happy to have them back in the rotation.

i have yet to wrap our gifts or finish my shopping or bake anything. yet i find time to blog.

caleb has had a new teacher in the mornings at day care, and for the very first time, he cried when i dropped him off. so i said goodbye and left and heard his cries all the way down the hall as i was walking out. i considered running back, scooping him up and telling him we'd both take the day off. but i kept walking. and he was okay.

the above picture is one of many taken by jocelyn k brown to document nine sweet months of caleb. isn't he cute? more where those came from, but thought i'd give you a sneak peek.

last week i thought about the fact that caleb is almost one year old. and i got teary-eyed, but wasn't sure if they were happy or sad tears.

my sweet and talented sister designed our christmas cards. without me even asking her to. she just knew i was late in doing them and told me that she had played around with some of our pictures and i said YES, PLEASE, i trust you . . . please do our cards! so i haven't even seen them yet. but she is amazing so i know they'll be perfect.

saturday mornings make me feel grateful. nothing is better than lounging in my pjs with my boys and soaking up every sweet moment.

he's a natural.

photo from jocelyn k brown photography.

from the moment that luke held caleb for the first time, he just knew what to do.

even when i didn't.

and every day i am just more amazed at how this dad thing comes so naturally to him.

he knows how to put caleb to sleep or how to make him quiet after a tantrum or how to make him giggle or discover something new. they both fearlessly tackle every new endeavor together, even if it's way past someone's bedtime. they know how to have fun. and luke knows how to discipline, how to be stern and how no matter how much it hurts our heart, it is for our sweet boy's good.

i couldn't be more proud of the dad he is or more relieved that i have him in my corner when i absolutely have no clue what to do.

he is the dad i always knew he would be and yet i find myself being caught off guard on nights like tonight when i see their connection and know that is extraordinary.

so luke. thank you from caleb b. and from me for always being the arms we feel the safest in and the source of our biggest smiles. we love you.

are you kidding me?

i got this picture from her today. and i've looked at it a thousand times.

this defines precious.

she is insanely talented and i love that these images are forever ours. someday when we're old and grey we'll look at this picture and remember him just as he was at nine months.

nine months

i remember last year at thanksgiving. i was waddling through a grocery store trying to find some last minute ingredients. i remember the day so well. i was big. i was tired. i was so ready to meet you. and i knew it wouldn't be very long.

i was so genuinely thankful. thankful that you were healthy. thankful for a relatively easy pregnancy. thankful that every doctor's appointment validated that you had strong heartbeats and you were so active and so alive and so well.

i remember being in love. again. with this little bug that was kicking inside my belly and who was becoming a part of my heart.

there was really no doubt. i loved you. and it made me grateful.

but i didn't know the details. i didn't know your face. i didn't know who you were. i didn't know specifically what about you i loved so much and what you'd do to me.

so today i am thankful for the details. i am thankful that i know who you are at nine months old. i can't believe that the you who was in my belly is the same you who are here with me today. knowing you is the best. the details. i love that there are nine months of details.

thank you God. thank you for knitting and forming and molding him into who is is now and into who he will be in the future. thank you so, so much. You gave me such a miraculous gift. and i can't seem to put him into words. so thank you for his sweet, big brown eyes and amazing lashes. thank you for his soft skin. thank you for his crazy hair and big head. thank you for his sweet snuggles. thank you for his loud squeals and prominent voice. thank you that he loves to giggle and be close to us. thank you that he is tough and strong. thank you that he loves to stand when supported and crawl backwards. thank you that he loves his toys and watches the same baby einstein video over and over again. thank you for his chubby cheeks and full lips. thank you that he will sit in his high chair and try every flavor of baby food we give him. thank you that he is such a love bug in the mornings. thank you that he clings to us when he's sad. thank you that he is so funny and his laugh is the most hilarious thing ever. thank you for his smiles that are quirky and cute and just so him. thank you for his pathetic but cute frown. thank you for that feeling. thank you that we get to be his parents.

caleb b. we've had nine months with you and i have to tell you, you've stolen my heart. it's yours. you light up my world. today i am thankful that the boy i loved a year ago is you. because you exceed any hope and any expectation of what i had imagined. thank you Lord.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

can you believe it?

guess who slept through the night?

US!

oh yeah. and him.



beautiful, sweet, uninterrupted sleep. it was heavenly. (okay, i admit. i did wake up once to make sure he was breathing. it was just a little too quiet in there.)

cry it out

you and me and crying.

we have an eight month history that seems epic. you have brought out in me the rawest of mommy emotions through our tears.

first. i will never, ever, could not even for a moment, forget the first time you cried. it ranks right up there with the best moments in all of my life. you, this little man, that was living and growing in my belly, actually came out and uttered your first sweet, precious, little cries. i didn't even have time to react. my heart erupted in sobs. because there you were after all that time. you were healthy and well and - oh my gosh - the idea that i loved so much was actually there in front of me right before my eyes. and it was okay that you were crying because i understood. it was all i could do, too.

and then. when being a mom proved harder than i knew. when i wasn't quite sure i was equipped to care for the sweetest little man. when i thought other moms might be more instinctual or natural or better at doing what i was supposed to do. we took you into the doctor's office soon after your birth to get your first shot. the doctor was loving and gentle as she poked your newborn skin. you were at first shocked by the poke, then you started to realize the pain. your sweet little mouth turned downward and you sobbed like i'd never seen. and in that moment, i felt whatever you were feeling. i felt your fear and worry and pain. and i wanted to take it away. i cried with you caleb b and i knew so much that it was because i loved you and because i was your mom. i was your mom. it felt like the biggest honor in the world to wrap you in my arms and tell you it would be okay.

and finally, there was a time. you were less than two weeks old. your dad was at work and i was home with you. you were crying as you did so often. i was using every trick in the book to try and soothe you but nothing was working. nothing. for like an hour. finally, i gave up. i surrendered. i prayed. and i held you close. your tears meshed with mine and we didn't know whose were whose. we just sat there for i don't know how long, crying together. oh caleb. i loved you so much and wanted to make everything okay for you. but it was then that i knew that it was okay for you to cry. that was your only language and no matter how much it hurt me to hear you use it, i had to get used to it.

so here we are. with another challenge looming.

you don't sleep through the night at eight months old. and i know that isn't terrible and really, we have all been dealing with the interrupted sleep just fine. but i know it will be better for you and for us to have you sleep longer and more consistently.

everyone i know has told me to let you cry it out. every single person. not one single soul has told me it was a bad idea. and i know they are right. you are a tough little man. you will be okay. you will cry it out and be just fine.

but i won't promise that i won't cry alongside you. i won't pretend my heart doesn't break to see you sad and to hear you cry out for us.

but as we have done in the past, we will cry it out together and persevere.

360

this little man used to hate baths.

with a passion.

he used to fight and kick and scream.

and i used to dread them, thinking that i was torturing my child every time i tried to get him clean.

i know now.

it just takes time. what he hated in the beginning he now loves. he loves it so much that even after the longest day in the world, giving caleb a bath just makes our day.

it didn't seem possible seven months ago.

but thank you Lord for every little thing that just got easier.

eight months.

jocelyn k brown photography

Dear Caleb,

Most moms think their kids grow up too fast and I’m no exception. But when you turned eight months I found myself wondering how in the world it has only been eight months. Because you are so much a part of my life and world and heart . . . and it seems like you always have been.

Here’s who you are at eight months.

You are learning baby sign language. And by “learning” I mean we sign to you and you look at us like we’re crazy.

You can pull yourself up.

You have two, precious little bottom teeth.

You are so active, always moving, looking around, rolling over, and grabbing things. We have to hold onto you tightly and watch you closely at all times.

You still make really, really loud noises. Sometimes at inopportune times.

You have a new car seat and look like such a little man when you look out the window and study your surroundings.

Sophie and Dotters. Still your main people.

You say mama!

You say dada, too.

You love to dance.

You love when we bounce you on our knee.

You are outgrowing your mobile. Instead of peacefully watching it go in circles above your head, you reach up and try to pull it down.

You are sleeping unswaddled. I will miss the baby burrito. So much.

You are a champ on road trips. Not that you don’t complain sometimes, but you are still a trooper.

You love the water. You splash and play and kick and it’s so much fun to watch. Hard to imagine there was ever a time that you hated baths.

You go crazy when you first see us after work. Arms are flailing, legs are kicking and you scream with delight.

You still don’t sleep through the night.

You still love Saturday mornings.

You love it when your dad “walks” you to sleep.

Your laugh is the funniest thing in the world.

Eight months. In just eight months, I've experienced what seems like a lifetime of emotions. I get to care for, nurture and love you every day and that has brought me more joy than I know what to do with. I honestly don't know how I got so blessed. I know what I have is a gift and I pray that I never take it for granted. I love being a mom. I love being YOUR mom. And I love you, Caleb B. So very, very much.

Love,

Mom

game day

One day, Caleb will go to the Seahawks games with his dad. They will wake up early in anticipation, maybe get some food ready for tailgating, drive down to the stadium WAY too early, park WAY too far away, soak in the excitement of just being at Qwest Field on game day, have a beer (Caleb will have a root beer), talk with old friends, and yell and scream until they lose their voices, give high fives, buy hot dogs with cream cheese from a street vendor, walk about 15 miles back to the car and come home smiling no matter who won.

Isn't my son so blessed to have a dad like Luke? I can't wait for all they will share together. They are already best buds, but it makes me smile knowing everything Caleb will experience in his life simply because he has an amazing dad. I know Luke will be Caleb's hero, as he is mine.

It warms my heart.

And speaking of warm.

I get to watch the game at home today with the little man. Someday he'll be at Qwest Field with dad in the freezing cold, getting rained on. But at least for today, he's warm and cozy with me.

seven months

Dear Caleb,

You are seven months old. And there is so, so much I love about you.

I love how with each month your hair gets bigger, higher, more curly, and more crazy. It makes me laugh and it makes you unmistakably you.

I love how you sit up all by yourself.

I love how you topple over on purpose just to make me laugh.

I love how you are ticklish on your feet.

I love your serious face and your cute little profile.

I love how big your smile is when you see us first thing in the morning.

I love all the funny noises you make. You are so loud.

I love that you are my five second snuggler. I really try to make the snuggles last. They are my favorite.

I love how you stop whatever you're doing and are glued to the screen every time we turn on Baby Einstein.

I love how you sit in your Bumbo seat on the kitchen counter and watch me intently while I cook.

I love how you are with babies and little kids. You are mesmerized by them whenever they’re around.

I love how you grab my face with both of your hands and try to take a bite out of my chin like it’s an apple.

I love the feel of your two little teeth poking through your gums.

I love the hope you give me when you have a really great night of sleep.

I love how you like to see me make a fool of myself. And I do it regularly and glady because making you laugh is so worth it.

I love how you’ll wake up by yourself in the morning and just hang out.

i love how happy you make your dad.

I love how, just when I think there is no possible way I could love you more, another day passes and I do.

Caleb, I hope you never tire of hearing how much I love you because I don’t think I could ever stop telling you. You fill my heart to the brim.

ode to a nap

i swaddle. i rock. i pacify. i bounce. i feed. i pace. i shhhh. i sway from side to side. i turn off anything that can make noise. i read. i sit in a dark room in the same position for an hour. and i don't move.

all so this sweet child can get in a decent nap.

and it's so worth it.

if you've seen him when he hasn't had a good nap you know why.

(and THEN, i take the above picture and ruin it all.)

just pictures

my happy place

when i'm having a bad day, there are many places i can go in my head and it reminds me that i'm profoundly blessed and have so, so much to be thankful for.

some days, i close my eyes and i see you and your dad. you both have those big amazing eyes that are so expressive and so happy. he is making you laugh and you are looking at him like he's the best thing in the world.

some days, i think of hearing that newborn baby cry for the first time and the wave of relief and joy that rushed over me. i feel grace over and over again.

some days i picture you on the changing table turning your head back and forth while you kick and laugh. i feel your happiness and excitement.

some days i think of your head on my shoulder, snuggling with me. i remember that you depend on me and it makes me want to be better.

throughout my life, God has blessed me so much and given me so many examples of His great love and provision for us.

on even the worst of days, i know that i have it better than good.

when it comes down to it, i feel like i hit the jackpot.

i still cannot believe that we got YOU.

a little man who is adorable and sweet and full of personality.

who is quirky and funny and who is so absolutely wonderful.

a sweet baby who we delight in even on the worst of days.

thinking of the gift i received in you is always my happy place.

if anyone thought i was overreacting. . .

Sleep deprivation: it's no joke.

six months

Dear Caleb,

So without sounding cliché, I have to start by telling you that I can’t believe how quickly time goes by. I am writing to my six month old. MY SIX MONTH OLD. I can’t believe the baby I brought home from the hospital is the baby you now are. I feel like I blink and you grow, do something new or hit a milestone I was sure would be months away. When I go back and look at newborn pictures, I can’t believe the little bug who needed us for everything is the same little bug who now sits up on his own and eats solid food with a spoon.

To think. Six months ago, I was laying on an operating table and I heard you cry for the first time. I couldn’t see you, but I heard you. And just that, just the sweet sound of your little cry changed my life. And you have been doing amazing things to my heart ever since.

Here’s who you are at six months:

You are a little comedian. You love to laugh and make us laugh. Your giggle is so cute and funny and contagious. Sometimes, you laugh so hard I’m afraid that you won’t catch your breath. But you always do.

You want to suck on everything and put EVERYTHING in your mouth. We think you are teething, which must be such a strange feeling for you. But it will be so cute to see you with a little tooth.

You love green beans! And pretty much every vegetable you’ve tried. As a mommy who hates her vegetables, I couldn’t be more happier about this.

You love playing with toys. We’ll sit you in your Bumbo or on the couch and put a bunch of toys in front of you and you have so much fun just observing, exploring and of course, sticking it all in your mouth. You are so interested and aware of things.

You are also developing a little attachment thing with your mom and dad. These days you want to be held more than usual or you have a harder time going to other people when we are in the room.

Your best buds are still Sophie and Dotters and that puppet on Baby Einstein.

You have started giving us hugs. Or at least I choose to believe you are hugging me. You’ll put your arms on the top on my shoulders and nuzzle your head into my neck. And I want to freeze time in these moments.

You are a crazy kicker. Crazy. When you are lying down and get excited about something, you’ll laugh like a crazy person, kick furiously into the air, and move your head and arms back and forth. Almost as if you are trying to run.

You love day care. You still have yet to cry once when I drop you off. And your teachers adore you. They call you handsome and all the ladies marvel at your long lashes. (I am jealous of your lashes on a daily basis.)

You are fascinated with other babies and little kids. You always want to join in when they are playing.

You get startled kind of easily. You freak out if someone sneezes too loud or if a sound catches you off guard (like a crowd cheering suddenly during a Husky game IN A BAR . . . yes, you can blame your dad for that one).

At your six month appointment, the doctor said you were growing beautifully … average for weight, 74th percentile for height and 92nd percentile for head circumference. Hopefully this means you will be really smart.

For as much as you’ve grown and changed over these past months, I feel like I have, too. I am not the same person I was on February 28. It feels as though my heart has doubled in size and it’s still not big enough to hold all the love I have for you. You make me laugh, you make me better understand grace, and you remind me every day how generous and loving and good God is.

I feel so blessed that you are who you are. And that I get to forever be your mom.

Love,
Mom