Christmas Eve 2011

8:12 pm

Dear Nolan,

You are so magnetic! I just couldn't wait to get those words down. Everywhere we go people NEED to ogle over your adorableness. I'm saying this now before you have the chance to accuse me of saying it "just because I'm your mother." People can't get enough of you and you bring smiles to all of their faces. I hope this part of your personality will forever remain. That you will always draw people to you and know how to keep them smiling. That would make me super proud.

It's Christmas Eve. Your first Christmas is tomorrow. You won't remember any of it and you have no idea what it's all about at your mere 9 months of age. But I just can't help myself from getting giddy about the morning festivities. Giggles while you open your gifts and absolute merriment while playing with new toys (we got you a drum, a wooden walker, and an Ugly Doll, by the way). Yes, even despite my grinch ways. You have that effect on me, son. I'm looking forward to future holiday traditions. Did I say that in the last letter? In any case, it's true. You've brought me so much happiness this year, and I am certainly looking forward to our future holidays together as a family.

Merry Christmas, baby boy!

A few pictures from dinner out with family tonight:

Getting silly with Uncle Dan.

Nolan, Mommy, and Daddy.

With Mommy. I wish I had a better picture of your adorable bow tie.

December 14, 2011

7:19 pm

My dear baby, you are growing so fast! I can't keep up with how fast you're changing and how quickly you are learning new things. It truly is astonishing! You love shaking your head no and have mastered the art of clapping your hands. You're so proud of yourself! We're working on "bye-bye" and you work so hard to mimic the movements of my hand. And I was JUST saying that I'm going to be hand feeding you forever and then tonight you decided to eat pasta all on your own.

Your daddy has been so busy working nights lately and tonight was one of our first family nights together in what felt like forever. As you crawled over and clung to my leg (as per usual) he just couldn't help himself from exclaiming "Nolan, I love you!" It melted my heart. You are so loved, child, and I always wonder if you can feel it. Do you understand how you've changed our hearts and how I feel so complete now?

It's the holiday season, and you will learn that I am a bah-humbug. The holidays are so over-hyped and too stressful. I love the spontaneity and no obligations that come with the other seasons, but I am a bit excited to document your first Christmas. You won't care about the toys that we got you and you won't remember the lit-up Christmas tree, but I do hope that we set the tradition of a holiday filled with minimal gifts and lots of quality family time. That despite my grinch ways you'll learn to love our family traditions during this time of the year.

I really could talk about you forever, my sweet man, but since you're STILL NOT SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT I'm signing off for some rest and relaxation.

Nolan, I love you!

Love,

Mommy

Picking out our Christmas tree. December 2011

December 14, 2011

November 4, 2011

7:04 pm

Dear Nolan,

Brutally honest, here. But OMIGOD ALL YOU DO IS SCREAM YOUR FACE OFF. Unless I'm carrying you, that is. Are you teething? Sick? Hungry? Tired? Growth spurt?

I don't mind carrying you, though. And you're still so damn cute, so it's all OK.

October 31, 2011

8:31 pm

It's your first Halloween, Frankenbaby. I had plans to dress you up in a little black suit and make gigantic shoes for your feet, but both you were and Daddy were under the weather today, so the knit hat did the job. It was also your first cold. You poor sniffly thing. You've been handling it like a champ, though. Taking more after your mama everyday.

Love,

Mommy

October 28, 2011

7:34 pm

Omigosh, two weeks?! I told you I wouldn't be very good at keeping up with this.

Today you are 7 MONTHS! Can you do me a favor and quit growing up so fast already? Seriously, slow down. You're like super baby developing at an astronomical rate. Sorry to brag (I am a mother, your mother, after all), but I'm fairly certain that you are mastering all the milestones months in advance. You've been crawling for weeks and have been pulling yourself up on everything since last week. You have even learned to fall on your butt rather than toppling over and smashing your head on the floor or furniture in the way. Today you started this clucking noise with your mouth. Cutest thing ever, obviously.

The reason I am writing this letter today is to tell you how much I hate being a working mom. The worst part of my day is waking you up from your peaceful slumber in the morning and in less than 10 minutes you are changed and loaded up in the car seat. It makes me so sad and EVERY DAY I have to stifle the tears as I drive off to work while Daddy drops you off at GeePa's. I hate it. Maybe it could be different if I was doing something that I'm passionate about, something that I truly loved, but I'm not. I bring home a paycheck that pays for the roof over our heads and the clothes on our backs. Although, just so you know, it is a rather large roof and some pretty darn nice clothes---these things, I realize now, are not important, but that's something that took me awhile to understand. I hope to instill something completely different in my own children. I often daydream of leaving this suburbia and living in a sweet little bungalow on the edge of a city. We'll have to work on Daddy if we're going to make this happen. But for now (and possibly forever) this is home, and anyplace is home as long as you and Daddy (and Rowand) are here.

Possibly in the future I could stay home part time. But I just want you to know that my heart is with you all day if I never get that chance. I hope that you never resent me for going to work everyday and that it doesn't hinder any of your developments. We all do our best around here.

Can I tell you about the BEST part of my day? It's not that first chance I get to scoop you up in my arms after a long day. It's not watching you smack those perfect little lips after spoonfuls of yogurt. It's not even our "dance party" time. Those things are all great and I revel in every moment, but there's an even more special part of my every day. It's right after I feed you your nighttime bottle and those few minutes before I put you into your crib for bedtime. I pull you up to my shoulder and you snuggle against my neck. You fit so perfectly in that spot. I rub your back and smell that sweet baby Nolan scent. You're just so cozy there. I savor this moment every.single.night and know better than to take it for granted. Someday this needs to be captured. I don't ever want to forget how that feels.

Here's a recent photo shoot of us. I think we look like twins, but everyone says you look just like your Daddy.

Either way, you're just so dang cute!

I love you!

Love,

Mommy

October 16, 2011

7.43 pm

You're sleeping now and all my duties are finally tied up for the day. A mother's work really is never done. Let's catch up on a few things.

In case you were ever wondering, you were very much indeed "wanted." As a child I always wondered if I was planned or an accident. And though I knew I was loved, I was still curious if I was ever a pre-conceived idea in my parents plans. But you, my son, were planned.

If someone were to ask me two years ago if I wanted children it was always a way-to-quick to answer "NO WAY." In fact, on my wedding day I told my bridesmaids that I had tricked your daddy into marrying me by telling him that maybe someday I'll have kids when in fact I had no intentions. True story. I just couldn't see motherhood in my future. Do you know me? I'm a high strung freak. It wasn't that a baby could never fit into my schedule, it's just that I couldn't find a hint of maternal instinct buried in my type A tendencies.

But it very seriously hit me like a ton of bricks one day. I woke up and decided that, damn it, I want a baby NOW. Your daddy was all too pleased. And so there it was. I went off the pill, freaked out about the way my body was reacting for about three weeks only to find out that I was pregnant. Just.Like.That.

The pregnancy? Easiest thing ever. I swear it should be illegal how easy being pregnant with you was. I sometimes forget that every woman is different and that I was very lucky when I try to coerce my friends into having a baby already. "Oh it's so easy. You're only tired for a couple of weeks. Those other women are just being dramatic." Some women just aren't as lucky. I never got morning sickness. I ran up until 37 weeks and worked out every single day until the day you were born. No cravings. No pains. Easy peasy.

I guess you decided to make up for it in labor and delivery. And while I find many womens' birth stories fascinating, it's not something that I'd like to recant. I gave myself hell long enough to go down that road again. You were a week late and after 26 hours of labor born by c-section. Let's leave it at that.

I guess we're all caught up on that. And by the way? I reaaallllly wanted a boy. I was (and still am) so terrified of having a girl. I know mothers-to-be say, it doesn't matter, as long as their healthy, and that's SO TRUE, but come on. We all sway towards one gender. Don't be fooled. Not only were you a boy, but you are healthy, too. Win/Win.

How did I get so lucky, Nolan?

Love,

Mommy

October 14, 2011

6:15 pm

You're sitting in my arms right now rubbing your eyes as I type with one hand. You're almost 7 months now and I realize that these precious moments are all slipping by way too fast. My love for you is so confusing. It brings me to tears, tears of happiness and also bittersweet sadness because you're growing up so quickly. My cheeks sometimes feel like they're going to fall off because I can't stop smiling when I'm around you. I must tell you that I love you 50 times a day! And let me tell you, my sweet son, I am an icy woman who doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve. I've been with your daddy for over 11 years and can count how many times I've told him I love him (which I do, very much so). But you, you make me love more than I ever thought possible. So trite, but so true. There really aren't the right words.

I've already missed documenting those first milestones. You're army crawling now, only because it's more efficient to you than crawling on your hands and knees. Today you started pulling yourself up. I missed pictures of your first bite of solid food and your very first bath. Your swim classes are only a weekly appointment, albeit an exciting one for all of us. Last weekend you went out twice to a restaurant and sat in the high chair at the table. Like a little adult. I didn't even take a picture.

Something terrifying happened today. Though sadly, it's not even the littlest bit scary. Much more terrifying events are bound to happen in the future. Rowand, your big brother dog, snapped at you and I'm pretty sure he nipped you somewhere on your head, but I was so delirious with anger I didn't even see it. You screamed so much, and I spanked Rowand harder than I have ever in his 4 years. Want to know something ridiculous? When you were growing in my belly I truly worried if I would love you as much as I love that dog. And now? If he ever touches you again, he's out. I don't care how, just out. Which contradicts everything I've ever believed in before. He used to be my baby, but now he's just my dog.

S0 here's a quick recap of your first six months:

You LOVE: bath time, nanas (bananas), Rowand and other dogs, family walks, pulling apart and chewing our house plants, swimming, music, the tv remote and the computer, hanging out with daddy.

You HATE: getting changed, that 20 minutes before bedtime, being in the car seat, sleeping through the night!

I can only hope that these moments, and these firsts, won't ever blur in my memory. I'm sorry I didn't document your growth in my belly, or take a picture of you each month. I'm sorry it took me this long to finally start writing down my feelings and the events taking place. And since it has taken me this long in the first place, I can't promise how good I'll be at it from here on out, but one thing we will always have, is these letters.

I love you, Nolan James.

Love,

Mommy

p.s. I just put you in bed. Rowand scratched you a bit on your back and arm. I think you're over it and I hope that in the morning you'll still love your big brother dog. Daddy wasn't here when it happened and I'm trying to decide if I should tell him or not.