Friday, January 8, 2010

January 2010 Newsletter: 5 months

Dear Morgan,

These first five months of your life have been some of the most beautiful, but also some of the most difficult months of my life. Difficult because of issues with money and doctors and work; beautiful because no matter how hard things get, I can always count on you to lift my spirits and put a smile on my face. No matter how unpredictable the rest of the world is, YOU are a constant in my life. I credit you and your daddy for getting me through these past couple months with at least some of my sanity still in tact. I wish I could say that will always be the case, but I know better. See, I've lived through your sister's third year of life so I know there is a very good chance that one day you will be the one pushing me to the brink of insanity rather than rescuing me from it. But for now, I want to thank you for being my anchor. Thank you for helping me keep things in perspective and for giving me reason to stay strong.


My favorite thing you've learned this past month is how to give 'kisses'. We weren't sure that's what they were at first, but we soon realized that those slobbery attacks were, in fact, tokens of your affection. When I pick you up from the babysitter or after I've given you a few kisses on the cheeks you'll grab my face with both hands and firmly attach your wide open mouth to the first thing it comes in contact with: cheeks, nose, mouth, whatever. Although that's very cute and funny, the best part is when you pull away and there are visible strings of slobber reaching from your mouth to my face. I don't mind your slobber too much, so I'll let you "kiss" me whenever you feel like it. Your dad, on the other hand, doesn't handle the slobber too well. I believe you are fully aware of this fact and that you just enjoy messing with him. I swear sometimes you watch him and wait until he's not looking, then you suddenly fling your entire body onto his lap and start sucking on his arm, smiling the whole time.


A couple weeks ago you got your first teeth. That's right, teeth. Not tooth. Plural. As in MORE THAN ONE. And I am in breast feeding hell. I'm not sure where you got the idea that it would be funny to bite down and arch your back at the same time, but you do it regularly. Then you LAUGH. And when I sternly tell you IT'S NOT FUNNY, you just laugh harder. Although I have no concrete evidence of it, I suspect your father may be putting you up to this, you know, to get back at me for laughing at the whole slobber thing.


  Along with all the slobber, the spit-up stained EVERYTHING, and the endless loads of laundry you've brought into our home, you've also brought an incredible amount of laughter with you. You find humor in the simplest things, and hearing you laugh gets your dad and I laughing which, in turn, just makes you laugh even more. The other day as I was carrying the laundry basket through the living room, I walked right into the coffee table and you thought it was the MOST HILARIOUS thing you had ever seen. You were even laughing hard enough that you started snorting-something, I'm sorry to say, you inherited from me. A couple weeks ago I was in the car with you and Shylee and you sneezed. Shylee thought this was quite funny and began giggling uncontrollably which made you squeal in response. I sat there listening to the two of you for a good two minutes and eventually I couldn't help but laugh right along with you. And there we were: the three of us laughing hysterically about a silly little sneeze. But I'm so happy we're able to share moments like that because whether we're laughing about the frenzied look on your face when you first discovered Dixie's enormous, stretchy cheeks or about something as ridiculous as a sneeze, the feeling that laughter creates is the same. And it's just one more thing that will help hold this family together.


Love,
Mama

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