You change now on almost a daily basis. I haven't written to you in three months and looking at the photos on here is like looking at a different baby.
You are finding it difficult to go to sleep these days which is hard for your mother. She has to carry you and comfort you for up to an hour, and your weight, along with the psychological weight of your cries of discomfort, are tiring. And yet I see she loves you more today than yesterday. And more yesterday than the day before.
I am very much enjoying watching you grow, watching you experiment with the world around you, watching you learn your body and how to use it to navigate your small kingdom and communicate your simple needs. You stretch out you hands to people, hand them things, smile and make noises to see if they react. You pull yourself up on things, let go, stand awhile, fall down and start the cycle over. For you it seems like fun, flexing you new found powers of mobility, crawling at lightening speeds to investigate the plant pot, the dvd speakers, the mat by the door where we dust off our shoes. Anything we don't want you to investigate, for fear you'll damage it or yourself, that is your highest priority for investigation.
Fear. It rules us now. Fear you will fall, fear you will find a sharp edge, fear you will eat something discovered on the floor. We move fast, but you move faster. Let the games begin.
However, when all is said and done, you continue to be a little miracle to me. Your insatiable energy and curiosity, your generosity and sociability, your dexterity and adventure. All tied up in a little bundle that is the most beautiful thing I ever saw. Thank you for giving me the amazing experience of being your father. It is wonderful.
