Dear baby boys,
I wonder how long I will be able to keep addressing you as such. Will I be writing the letter of your 16th birthday and still see you as chubby, toothless toddlers slamming the door to your stinky teenager rooms when I sweetly tell you there’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near my car? Probably.
November 2010 was good to us in many ways. Obviously we celebrated Thanksgiving, the official kick-off to the holiday season. We spent the day with the Sumsion side of the fam at Aunt Jills new house. It was delicious and full of good cousinly fun. Then naps.
But November was also a time of much sickness. I can’t remember the last time when one of the four of us wasn’t sick. We’ve experienced all varieties: stomach bugs, fevers, coughs, etc. I guess I should include teething in this. Drew has yet to pop another besides his two front bottoms, but they are on their way.
Oh Drew, I really can’t complain. You are sweet and cuddly and desperate to get moving so you can chase your big brother. You have been rolling over a ton these past few weeks but when you end up on your tummy you can only handle it for a small amount of time. You’re still working on rolling from tummy to back and you usually accomplish this task by screaming loudly so I will come running and do it for you.
I always get compliments on how chill of a baby you are at family parties and big get togethers. But want to know a little secret? This is because you love a crowd. You love to be entertained and have people to watch. And truth be told, sometimes me and big brother just aren’t enough. You demand a change of scenery often. And heaven forbid I need to leave you alone for a moment. But that’s alright. I adore you and am more than eager to acquiesce, even if it is exhausting sometimes.
We are still working on the naps though. Once you are up for the day YOU ARE UP FOR THE DAY. You take little cat naps here and there, with the occasional two hour stint, complete with me sneaking in every ten minutes after half an hour to make sure you are still alive. Your brother was the king of long, daytime naps and didn’t sleep through the night until he was eight months old. You, my friend, have been letting me enjoy nearly eleven uninterrupted hours from the time you were four months old. I thank you for that. As does my energy level.
Ah Franky boy. You really are a little man now. I notice each night as I slather your legs and arms with Eucerine cream to combat your ever persistant exzema. Your baby fat is all but gone. Your legs are long and leans and your belly is no longer round but flat. Your feet stink when you don’t wear socks with your shoes and you require a bath at least every other day now.
Speaking of excema you know how to say this word and ask me about it as I lather you up each night and morning. Every day I am shocked by the things coming out of your mouth, but in a good way. You can communicate just about anything at this point although sometimes you need me to translate your mispronunciations to others.
But you are still my baby. I rock you each night and read you stories. When you hurt yourself you still need your boo-boos kissed. And when you are sick we snuggle and you tell me “hold you!” (which is how you say “hold me”; I am never correcting this one, it is tooooooo cute).
You have finally started watching movies. I have a love/hate relationship with your fondness for them. On the one hand, when I really need to do something without your shadow I can plop you on my bed with the TV on, giving myself anywhere from ten to twenty minutes. On the other hand, anytime the TV is on you beg me to turn on either Shrek or Cars. It’s annoying. And I give in a lot. But most of the time I try and keep the TV off during the day. I really do make an effort to play with you and find other means of entertainment so you don’t become a giant couch potato.
This month just few by. I mean, they all do but wow. No one tells you that one of the side effects of pregnancy is that time speeds up ten fold. I am not ready to be the mother of two walking humans. So could you do me a solid and quit growing? I would really appreciate it.
All my love, mama