Month 10.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 10 months old.  Double digits, my friend, and ever so creeping on that one year mark.  And once again, you are just the happiest of souls.  You continue to amaze me as you go with the flow, take whatever is thrown at you and adjust on the fly to our hectic lives and busy schedules.  

This month, I officially stopped nursing you.  When you were very young, you did "take" a bottle, however I use that term loosely as you never took it very well and clearly did not like it.  Because of how difficult it was to get you to drink from it, against all my better judgement and initial plans, I did not try often enough.  Eventually, around three months old, you just flat our refused it and we stayed in that camp for the next 6 months.  Although frustrating at times, I found comfort in the fact that it would not last forever and that when it came down to it, I didn't really have anywhere to go anyways.  Well madam, about 6 weeks ago I simply got tired of that reality.  I was ready to have some freedom and ready to rejoin the world of activities and events that start before 7pm or last longer than 4 hours.  So, we started to wean.  I followed the same type of pattern I did with your sister (as she too was a bottle refuser) and started slowly.  To say the least, it was a struggle.  You had no interest in drinking from a sippy cup and as a result basically starved yourself from liquids for about 2 weeks.  But ever so slowly, ever so surely, you started to cave.  Every day got a bit better and a bit easier.  And suddenly, about 4 weeks in you just accepted your new reality and decided to start chugging.  And chug you did (and continue to do).  And just like that I was done nursing.  FOREVER.  There may be things about having a baby that I look back on and miss, but nursing will never be one of them.  It's just not my thing.  I was willing to do it, am grateful that I could, but ultimately will not ever miss it.  Good riddance, nursing - catch ya never.

You still can't move.  And for the first time this past month, it seemed to kind of get to you at times.  You sit and you reach, and can even heave yourself onto your stomach but that is where it ends.  What follows is a whole lot of leg kicking mixed in with general grunting and whining.  Part of me hopes you can figure the whole thing out soon, as the whole show is getting a little tired, but the other part of me, the much more practical, logical side, will enjoy every moment of your immobility.  

Every month as I sit down and write these letters to you I search deep inside for the right words to describe how much you matter, how much you mean to me, how much you have changed me, and how much you have added to my/our lives.  And then, the other night I was reading the book "Carry on Warrior" by Glennon Doyle Melton and her words jumped off the page into my heart, my mind and my soul.  I have never read anything that I resonated with more.  And I could not have ever written something so perfectly that describes what welcoming you into our family did to me and to us.

Here it is...

"Then the third arrives.  And as you hold her for the first time, you notice that your hands are steady and you're breathing easy.  The all-consuming fire is gone.  Love is just...love.  Your don't feel threatened anymore by her or the world.  Because all of a sudden you see in her teeny little face that she is the world.  And you understand that you're not her protecter anyway; she has One of Those.  You're just her teacher.  You're just borrowing her for a little while.  You decide not to spend so much of your precious time begging God to shield her from the world.  Seems silly, all of a sudden.  Because she, God, the world, are all mixed up together inside that new skin.  

Then, as you count her tiny fingers with yours, you check your heart and find no guilt there.  Because you understand that you are about to present your older children with the greatest gift of their lives.  Who else but a sibling travels with you from the start of life's path to the bitter end?  And you know now that if your first and second born spend the next few months relearning that They're Not the Centre of the Universe, well, good then.  It's an important thing to know, and it's a lesson best learned early.  So, there's another gift to them, courtesy of you, and this littlest one.

You understand that things will get tougher when she comes home.  You will sweat and curse more at the grocery store.  You will have less money to buy her the right things.  You will look far less graceful at playdates.  But you will care less.  Because you have listened to and spoken to enough honest parents to understand that we're all in this together.  And that there is no prize for most composed.  So you've decided to stop making parenthood harder by pretending it's not hard.

You look down at her, your third, and you think, what's so different about you?  But before you finish asking the question, you know the answer.  And your heart says to her: Oh. You're not different from the other two.  I am.  I'm learning how to love without so much fear.  How to relax a bit, in this brutiful world.  How to let go and trust.  You are helping me breathe easier, you three.  One at a time, and together."

I cried as I read and re-read the words, over and over again.  And at the end, like a tidal wave of love, the words that came to me, were thank you.  Thank you, my sweet littlest one.  For teaching me how to let go, how to care less, how to admit when things are hard, how to breathe easier.  When your brother was born, I fought against it all.  When your sister was born, I faked it.  When you were born, I finally embraced it.  And the joy and relief that came with it has allowed me to see the world clearer, steadier and calmer.  It's a shit show sometimes (ok, a lot of the time), but it's our shit show.  And we rock it.  And at the end of the day, when I sing to you before bed, you always cuddle in to me, with your head placed firmly on my shoulder, and you sing right back almost as if you're saying "mama, we've got this".  Love is just...love.  And you, my very sweet child, are every definition of the word.  

Here's to you at 10 months new.

Love,

Mama

xoxo

Month 9.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 9 months old.  As of this month you have officially been on the outside as long as I knew you were in the inside, and as per usual, you continue to take it easy on us around here.

Although 95% of the month you did uphold your amazing attitude, we did dabble on the other side a few times.  At first, I couldn't quite figure out what the problem was.  You were still fairly happy, but would randomly cry out or need to be held periodically during the day.  It wasn't until your Auntie Kari pointed out the FOUR TEETH that were coming through your top gums that the mystery was solved.  How I missed those teeth coming in I will never know but instantly I understood and sympathized with you as it looked as painful as your cries sounded.  By the end of the month they had all broken through completely and you relaxed again.  I cannot imagine how much that must hurt and even so you handled it like a pro.

This month will also mark the first time we experienced your temper.  Up until now you have pretty much gone with the flow, having toys ripped from your grasp numerous times a day (cue Addy), never as much as batting an eye.  On this particular day however, you were sitting with your Dad, playing with this domino math game of your Nana's when Colin asked your Dad if he could play with it.  Knowing that you probably couldn't care less, your Dad said sure, but just asked Colin to get something else for you to play with  - a trade of some sorts.  So, your Dad took the game away from you to hand to Colin...this is where your temper erupted.  The sound you made and the tears that followed stopped both your Dad and I in our tracks.  We couldn't believe how strongly you reacted.  So much so, that we decided to test the waters again...we are cruel parents like that.  So, your Dad handed the game back to you, only to take it away again a few seconds later.  And oh my, the question of whether or not you were having a temper tantrum was forever solidified - a solid yes.  As much as I realize that dealing with baby and toddler temper tantrums is not my favourite part of being a parent, watching you erupt actually made me laugh.  To be honest, I think it was the first time I saw that much emotion come out of you.

Seeing this outburst also reminded me that soon enough you are going to be a full fledged opinionated part of this family.  So far, you have pretty much just gone along with whatever we were doing, whatever we were eating, wherever we were going.  The clock is ticking on this easy breezy stage and I am interested to see how you ultimately fit into the mix around here.  One more person means one more opinion and one more personality to mesh into our family mould.  I'll be completely honest - that scares me a little.  Some days, I feel like all I do is referee opinions, and I just have 2 to deal with.  Adding the third (that's you) to the mix will undoubtedly have its fair share of rocky moments/days/months.  There are so many unknowns about how you will mix things up around here, at each of your stages and years.  That being said, one thing that is forever certain, is that this family was meant to include you.  Your Dad and I dreamed about each one of you kids and knew that our lives needed you and our hearts ached for you.  I don't know if I will ever feel worthy of the gift that is you (or your brother or sister) but I do know that it is a gift I will never take for granted.  Yes, some days are tough, sometimes I am exhausted and from time to time I lose my mind.  But at the end of each day, when the three of you kids are sleeping away and the house is quiet again I know that I am exactly where I am meant to be.  This life of ours, although crazy at times, could not be better.  We are so lucky and so blessed.  And you, my dear, make things that much sweeter. So far, the show you have put on has been the very best of opening acts.  You have me hooked.  I can't look away as I don't want to miss one minute and I wait with baited breath to see the plot unfold.  With you as the star of the show, it's sure to be a hit.

Here's to you at 9 months new.

Love,

Mama
xoxo

Month 8.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 8 months old.  Once again, you continue to amaze me.  You are so good and so easy and so wonderful.  You handle this life of ours and the busy, always on the go days we have around here so painlessly that I often wonder if you're too good to be true.  The only explanation I can come up with is that you will pay us back in your teenage years.  It seems only fair.

This month, you started to really eat and eat you did.  You can pack back the food like nobody's business.  And to date, there has been nothing that you have refused.  Both your brother and sister have spent time in the "picky eater" category so at this moment in time, I am loving your willingness to try new food and pack back a meal in record time.  I can assume that this means that this will always be the case and that we will never have to set the timer, serve suppers for breakfast or withhold snacks like I have had to do too often with your brother and sister.  One can hope, right?

For this first time this month you were plucked from your carseat for a ride in the front of the cart at Superstore.  From the second your bum hit that seat you were over the moon thrilled.  I have honestly never seen you smile like that - and you smile a lot.  You were absolutely giddy.  Your sister sat beside you as we shopped and you took in every single moment of that trip.  You touched everything and anything you could.  I was instantly brought back about 2 years and 4 years ago when my grocery list became a snack and each one you felt the need to gnaw on it every chance you got.  This time around, I am smart enough to realize that this stage does not last forever and is so much better than the "I want out of the cart" stage which comes all too quickly.  For that reason, my lady, grab and gnaw away.

A little while ago, it became tragically apparent how truly lucky we are to have you.  By the grace of God we have three amazing, healthy, happy children and a life that is nothing but good.  I was reminded at a deep, painful level that at any moment tragedy can strike and your life, or what you thought would be your life, can dissolve.  I spent some time running through what it would be like to lose one of you kids.  How that would destroy and shatter my core, my heart and my soul.  After some time, in that deep, dark place I had a realization - there wasn't really a point in torturing myself with those thoughts.  The fact of the matter is that for whatever reason, we are lucky enough to have you all - happy, healthy and amazing.  If for some reason that should change some day, I would never want to think that I wasted even one second crying about what might happen.  I would want to know that I spent every second of every day soaking in your joy, enjoying your light and loving on you with every ounce of my heart.  Life is far too precious for anything else.

My sweet girl, I am already better because of you.  I am already more of who I am supposed to be because of you.  I already love better and more immensely because of you.  All in 8 months - that's got to be some sort of record.

Here's to you at 8 months new.

Love x8,

Mama
xoxo

Month 7.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 7 months old.  It's been pretty much business as usual around here and just like most every other month that you have been part of our family, you continue to allow the crazy to go on around you, never complaining or objecting.  This month you started sitting on your own and love to sit, play and watch the world around you from an upright position.  It amazes me how good you are at this already, rarely falling backward or to the side.  My amazement quickly turns to worry as the speed in which you acquired this skill does not bode well for me in the long run.  As much as I love to watch you grow and learn, life with a baby changes drastically when said baby becomes mobile.  For this reason, feel free to get comfortable where you are.  I love you every way, but I love you the most when you stay in one spot.

For the first time this month, you sat with Addy in the front of the cart at the store.  Up until that point you stayed in your carseat and were perfectly content to look up at the lights and people watch as we grocery shopped.  If it wasn't for the amount of crucial cart space that your carseat occupies, I probably could have left you like that for many more months.  But I needed that space, so up you came.  And from the second your bum hit that seat, your mind was blown.  It was like all of a sudden your life made sense, the world was your oyster and your life's possibilities were endless.  The joy in your heart was palpable.  I am well aware that very soon a grocery shopping trip will become less than world shatteringly impressive to you so in the mean time I will just enjoy the look on your face each and every time it appears.

Believe it or not, even though I have been a Mom for almost 4 and a half years, it still amazes me that I have one child, never mind three.  Occasionally when your brother or sister calls me Mom it hits me deep.  Deep, deep down in my heart and soul that forever and ever, I am your Mom.  It is because I know how infinitely special my own Mom is to me, how crucial she has been and continues to be to my life, how she knows me and my story, from start to finish that the fact that I have three of my own is sometimes too much for my heart to handle.  And you, even though we have only known each other for 7 months, hold just as equal amount of real estate in this bursting heart of mine as the others.  To put the way I feel about you into words, is something I struggle with each and every month I sit down to write this letter to you.  And then, a few days ago, I read this, and it just made sense...

"You were a risk, a mystery, and the most certain thing I'd ever known." - Beau Taplin

I read these words and immediately realized that they summed up perfectly the journey in which you became part of our family.  Before you were to be, we were just hitting our groove around here.  Nights were uninterrupted, naps were skippable and we had what has been coined "a million dollar family".  You were, in fact, a risk.  Shaking things up is a gamble and it doesn't always mean things will settle right side up.  You were also a mystery.  What kind of baby you would be, whether you would be a boy or a girl, what you would think of this whole shebang we call life - a mystery.  Risk, yes.  Mystery, yes.  The most certain thing I'd ever known - no doubt.  From the time you were just a thought and a dream to this very moment, however many months that is later, you my girl, in my heart, were a sure thing.  I wanted you.  I knew that my life needed you and that no matter how hard and exhausting another baby would be, that in the end, my life would not be complete without you.  It was never a question and to this day maintains that status.  You were worth the risk, mystery included.  Your joy, your light, your you have done nothing but solidify what I already knew.  To me, you are and will always be, certain.  

Here's to you at 7 months new.

Love x7,

Mama

xoxo

Month 6.

Dear Aubrey,

Yesterday, you turned 6 months old - one half year.  I remember the first few days after you were born, just like the first few days after each of your siblings were born, everything was a bit overwhelming.  The best advice I can give any first time Mom is that no matter how much reading and preparation you think you have done, you have no idea until that baby is staring you in the face.  Like literally, no idea.  With your brother, I definitely had zero idea.  I had some idea with your sister.  I had a decent idea with you.  But still, those first few days, as much as your heart is exploding with every coo, every slight opening of eyes, the work is hard.  I knew too much this time around.  I knew that the nights ahead would be long, I knew that establishing nursing would be tough, I knew that integrating you into our crazy household would take time.  I remember saying to your Dad that I just needed to get to 6 months - at 6 months, I felt that things would have settled down again.  And honestly, I wasn't wrong.  Here we are, at our milestone and things are fairly calm.  You are definitely well integrated into this family and eating and sleeping have long been established.

I kind of feel like we are in the calm before the storm around here.  I'll explain.  You are at the age where you still sleep (a lot), but while awake, can definitely entertain yourself with the help of a few strategically placed contraptions.  We pretty much rotate through the exersaucer, jolly jumper and play mat.  You love them all and can spend as long as I will allow reaching, batting, gumming and bouncing your awake time away.  The beauty of it all though, and the reason for the "calm" is that you still stay where I put you.  Besides a bit of shifting and pivoting on your play mat, your toys and your immobility contain you to one place.  Tis no better a thing than a happy baby who stays in one place.  The storm that awaits us is when you can move around and all of a sudden the death trap that is our house will become a real threat.  What do I mean by death trap, you ask?  Well let me tell you.  It starts with Lego, thousands and thousands of pieces of Lego, continues with a bazillion places to climb and ends with 2 other children who know how to open (and leave open) the basement gate.  Yes, it's going to be a learning curve for us all.  For all of these reasons,  I will love this time and soak it in as long as I can.  I am in no rush to get you to the mobility stage.  No rush.  Hear me?  NO RUSH.  Stay put for as long as you like, little one.

This past month we said a definite goodbye to your acceptance of a bottle.  At first, I was upset and frustrated, as taking a bottle means that I can have a bit more freedom and a break from time to time.  But shortly after, after I really thought about things, I realized that it doesn't really matter if you take a bottle or not.  I have decided that I don't care.  Yes, when the time to wean comes it will make things a little harder, but for now, I promise, it really doesn't matter.  For one, where am I going?  I have no weddings in Mexico (unfortunately), which is the reason I needed your sister to take a bottle.  Secondly, I have three kids.  Yes, it is true.  And when you have three kids your list of social activities tends to be quite short anyways.  And lastly, this is the last time of my life where I am going to have a nursing baby.  Even if I nursed you another 2, 3, 4, 5 months even, I am never ever going to do this again and that is a-ok by me.  For now, it's you and me, my girl.  The time will come to part ways (at least eating wise) and that's ok by me too, but for now, we come as a set.

We celebrated Christmas over the past month, and just like most things in life, I don't think you had any clue what was going on.  That being said, you were as joyful as always and put up with the chaos and business that is Christmas.  I can only imagine the difference in you by next Christmas as each year with your siblings is better than the last.  I imagine that next year might be the typical "more interested in the wrapping than the presents" year which is one of my favourites.

Ok, lady - just in case you haven't picked up on this yet, you are just the best baby ever.  When you are done nursing, and it's just you and I in your room, I sometimes hide in there with you for a minute or two longer.  I can hear the crazies being crazy outside your door, and even though I know I should go supervise their craziness, I can't quite make myself get up.  We have mini conversations (me talking, you grunting), read a quick book, and enjoy the quiet (or at least the muffled craziness) for a few minutes.  Can you keep a secret?  It's often my favourite time of day.

Here's to you at 6 months new.

Love x6,

Mama
xoxo

Month 5.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 5 months old.  My sweet, sweet, sweet girl, you are officially my favourite baby.  Don't tell your brother or sister, although if either of them had any memory of their first few months of life, they would probably understand. And really, while we're on the subject, 99% of babies would be better than Colin was so beating him out in the favourite category is really nothing to brag about.  Beating Addy though - that is something for the books.  Your sister was by far my BEST sleeper.  I woke (and really still wake) her up from every nap and in the morning pretty much every single day.  That being said, as good as sleeper as she was/is, we all in turn became a slave to her nap as her napping needs became very specific.  She really would only nap by herself, in a dark, quiet room.  When she was able to sleep, she was a happy baby.  If for any reason we weren't home at nap time or were late getting home, oh my.  You, are a perfect hybrid of a solid sleeper who at the same time can handle being tired and handle waiting.

You wait a lot.  The fact that you wait so patiently and happily is the best gift you could ever give me.  Life around here would look A LOT different if you did not grace us so wonderfully with your ease.  I have heard numerous people tell me that third babies pretty well live in their carseat.  Although I wouldn't go this far with you, you do spend a lot of time in it, especially on nursery school, swimming and skating lesson days.  You have gotten so comfortable in there that it is the only place you poop anymore :).

This month you started eating solids and as per the theme of your general life so far, you caught on with ease.  There are days that you eat a lot and days where you purse your mouth shut so tight there is no chance of getting the spoon in.  Every time you reject the meal it makes me think how my perspective on things as a Mom has changed so much now that I have had 3 kids.  If Colin had rejected a meal I probably would have gotten extremely frustrated, attempted to FORCE him to eat, and then panicked that he wouldn't sleep, as a result of the missed meal.  With you, I simply get your message and go on with our day.  I now have the experience to really understand that as your mother, I can't force you to eat and really, I can't force you to sleep.  Obviously there are things I can do to lead you down the right paths of eating and sleeping, but ultimately neither can be forced.  It is amazing how liberating it is to accept that.  It's too bad I couldn't have done it 4 years ago - would have saved myself a lot of worry and a lot of googling!

Your Auntie Heather and I were talking the other day about the fact that our kids probably won't remember anything about the things we do or the places we go at this time in their lives. We talked about how we work so hard to create fun moments and the fact that none of you will ever remember it is sometimes a little sad.  Personally, I really only have a small handful of real memories of my childhood.  My earliest childhood memory is being at Disney World in 1988, on the Dumbo ride and looking down to see my Mom, your Grandma, buying a soft pretzel from a food vendor.  I have no idea why that memory has stuck around, but for whatever reason, it is there.  Even though I don't remember much of anything else, there are two reasons why I know for sure that I had an amazing childhood.  For one, quite simply, there are pictures.  I am trying to make sure I provide the gift of documenting our lives as well, through my Project Life books.  Secondly, and much more importantly and complexly, there is the feeling.  The feeling of fun, of joy, of family and of love.  Even though I don't remember the exact things we did or the places and things we saw, I know for sure that through it all, we had so much fun.  The specifics are blurry but the overall theme is there - we loved each other and we genuinely enjoyed spending time together.  I can honestly say that these two traits still remain (at least on my end) within our original family, and also has extended to our extended families.  There is nothing more that I want for you and your brother and sister than to have that same feeling about your own childhood.  The desire for you to feel the same makes all the planning worth it.  It makes the the energy it takes to haul three kids across town to Great Big Adventure worth it, it makes saving up for big trips and adventures worth it, it makes scouring Pinterest for the next fun craft worth it.  As you three get older, the list of things we can do as a family gets longer and the adventures we can experience together get bigger.  I am so excited for each and every moment and hope that the moments we create, although individually may be forgotten, add up to the happiness and fun that you three (and every child for that matter) deserve.

Aub - it is such a privilege to be your Mom.  You are the most perfect addition to our family and in every sense of the word, have completed us.  Every month that passes allows us a few more sneak peeks into you - what makes you tick, what makes you smile, what makes you YOU.  Honestly, I don't think there is anything as a Mom that gives me more joy than to see my kids becoming themselves.  Even the parts about your brother and sister that drive me crazy are so uniquely them that I can't help but secretly enjoy it all.  As this life of ours unfolds, day by day, it just makes sense that you are a part of it.  As much as on some days, it may seem as if you are just in the background, often overshadowed by your siblings needs, schedules and voices, I can assure you that in my heart and in my soul, you are just as important and just as intertwined in to what makes my heart beat and my soul ache in the best way possible.  You make everything exactly the way it should be.

Here's to you at 5 months new.

Love,

Mama
xoxo

Month 4.

Dear Aubrey,

A few days ago, you turned 4 months old.  On that same day, I turned 32 years old.  It's hard for me to imagine you, at 32, considering the fact that we are still getting to know you and determine what makes you tick.  From what I do know about you, I think you will rock 32 like nobody else.  Whatever you life brings you at that age, I just hope that I am still around to see it.

This past month, you have defined the saying "find your groove".  You, my lady baby, kicked month 3's ass.  Whatever grooves we needed to find were zeroed in on and mastered, one by one.  I have said it before and I will say it again, you are an easy baby.  You rarely, if ever make a noise, and if you do, it's only because I have pushed you, yet again, past your very generous limits.  You have grabbed daytime sleep by the horns and told it where to go.  You sleep in the car, you sleep in the stroller, you sleep in your bed, you sleep in someones arms...you adapt to each and every day without a wimper, without a complaint.  I totally and completely owe my sanity to you.  You see, your brother and sister have a tendency to drive me crazy with fighting, crying, never ending negotiating - pretty much the regular 2 and 4 year old crap.  If you joined in on their circus I think it would send me over the edge.  By you, my sweet, sweet girl do nothing but ground me.  You ask for so little and give SO MUCH to me each and every day.  Your eyes light up for me and in an instant I can feel myself calm down and regroup.  You are my saving grace as a Mom.

Last week I had you in the Bumbo on top of the kitchen island while I worked in the kitchen.  Your brother and sister were playing away.  In a, I have three kids and have never had a problem cocky moment, I left the room.  In that instant, your sister climbed onto the play table and pulled you down.  You hit your head on the corner of the play table and again on the ground.  I heard both hits and then your sister crying.  I will never forget the way your body looked, facedown on the ground.  You never made a sound, never shed a tear, which terrified me even more.  I felt so helpless.  I had no idea what to do so naturally, I screamed at your sister and sent her to her room.  Obviously the logical thing to do.  I held you and cried.  Tears of fear and tears of guilt streamed down my face but ultimately you were fine.  A bump on the head and a few pukes were really the only marks left.  On my heart however, a mark will last forever.  I should never have left you up there and walked away.  I was cocky and careless and I'm sorry.  I know you will never remember what happened, but I will never forget.  It knocked me back to reality of how fragile a baby is, how rough and unaware a 2 year old can be and how carefully I need to protect you.  I am so grateful that this incident was what reminded me of these things rather than something more serious.  My job is to keep you healthy and safe and I'm so sorry that I slipped up.  Thank you for again, taking it easy on me, brushing yourself off and carrying on like nothing happened.  Chalk another one up to you.

Your Dad asked me the other day what I was like as a baby.  And to be honest (Mom, please correct me if I am wrong), I think I was a lot like you.  Pretty calm, pretty much a go with the flow kind of kid.  I think these are pretty common traits of a third child as life does not stop when they come into the mix.  Older siblings have commitments and the busyness of life just kind of carries on while they grow.  After he asked me this, I started to wonder if that means you might be like me as a child, teenager and adult.  If you agree with what you read about birth order, I fit the youngest child description to a tee.  The fact that our family is identical to the one I grew up with (boy, girl, girl), I can't wait to see how things pan out for us.  I can't seem to buy a kid to look anything like me, so I wouldn't mind if I could get in on the personality side of things.  By the way, I am well aware that I may regret saying and wishing this.  Only time will tell.

Again, and again, and again, I just can't get enough of you.  I don't know if it's because you are my last, or just because you are you, but I really feel connected to you.  You have taken to your play gym lately and love reaching up and batting the toys.  I could watch you do this for hours as it is amazing to me to watch you learn and develop - all in such a short 4 months.  I love watching how gently you reach for them and how you squeal with delight when they rattle.  I can't wait for whatever is next.  If your Dad and I ever made a right decision, it was in deciding to have a third child.  I honestly cannot imagine our family without you, can't imagine me without you.  You have completed us and completed me in so many ways.  You are so loved.

Here's to you at 4 months new.

Love x4,

Mama
xoxo