Oh. Hi there, handsome.
This week you are one month old. If someone were to have asked me six weeks ago what I was most nervous about bringing you into the world, I would have said I was most nervous for the first month. But here it is, come and gone. AND WE ARE ALIVE.
As a woman in her thirties with three siblings of my own, I am hesitant to compare you to your sister. The attention-seeking nine year old in me wants to stamp her foot in protest every time I'm tempted to do so. But considering Anna is my one point of reference when it comes to actually doing this whole Mom thing, I can see why people do it. Which is my convoluted way of saying please, let's just keep this between you and me, but...
YOU ARE A WAY EASIER BABY THAN YOUR SISTER.
Phew. Okay, there. I said it. I'm not proud of it. But it's true. (Anna, when you are old enough to read this, keep in mind that you turned into the most adorable, good-natured, and sweetest little girl that ever walked the face of the planet. But you were a hard baby.)
Case in point, Aaron: You sleep. On your back. Even when someone isn't holding you. Most of my pictures of you are ones where you are deep in dreamland. Did you inherit your Dad's ability to fall asleep anywhere? If so, God has blessed you with a tremendous gift, and I expect you to use it on every plane ride in your future. My jealously knows no bounds.
Second case in point: You eat. Let's put it this way: One of my biggest fears this time around was going through the same breastfeeding hell I went through with Anna (Hey, Anna. I love you. So much. You know that, right? And you are the smartest, most muchiest...). Anyway, you came into the world a tiny peanut, and as of last week are OVER SEVEN POUNDS!! Every day I look at you filling out and it makes me feel like I'm actually doing something right. A woman in her thirties LOVES feeling like she's doing something right.
We have been joking with everyone who has been following the pregnancy and birth drama that you have met your quota of scaring us. Between several days of jaundice and Bili-bed therapy:
And two days spent in the NICU because your heart rate kept dipping too low:
You, Mister, are done with drama. No broken bones for you. No sneaking out of the house when you're in high school. No girlfriends before you're done with law school (What? Did I say that? No, I couldn't possibly...)
Anyway, what I'm saying is that it's time for us to start enjoying each other. The best thing about this being the second time around is that I know how fast the time goes and understand that the sleepless nights will eventually end. You will suddenly be a little young person, like someone else we happen to know pretty well:
(One my my favorite pics from Auntie M's collection earlier this month...)
And as any woman in her thirties knows all too well, the time goes by too quickly. So in case I forget to say it, or in case I forget to show it, know that all the craziness that went into bringing you into this world has been more than worth it. You've already given me so much, more than you could know. I promise to return the favor.