This post is part of a monthly blog circle with 15 other talented women who are writing letters to their children as a personal photography project.
What a month it’s been! You’ve gone from being this little lump (albeit a sweet one) to being another tiny person living in our home. I love to hold you, to look into your eyes as you inspect me, and when you smiled at me this week so intentionally, my heart swelled so much. It seems like a cliche to say that you seem to be a sensitive younger brother to your boisterously energetic older sister, but at six weeks old, this is the case. You smile at her, which I find amazing. You light up when she puts her face so close to yours, and you squirm in her direction as she tries to hug and poke at you. I need to do a better job of capturing this in photos, because it’s just wonderful.
We’ve spent the month exploring — that, and sleeping. You’re big enough now that I have ventured out with you; we’ve lunched together, grocery shopped together, and run various other errands together. We’ve gone for walks with all of us. We’ve driven out to Nana and Grandpa’s house, and we’ve had playdates. We’ve been to church. It’s been an eventful handful of weeks, with your world expanding. We’ve explored at home, too, as you’ve started reaching for your mobile above your swing, and you’ve spent more time on your tummy.
Not that it’s all sunshine; you still aren’t sleeping through the night in the same way that El was at your age (the comparisons begin), and your fussy time of night every evening leaves us ragged. But, all that aside, it’s still amazing to me that only 7 weeks ago, I was praying for your safe delivery and setting up these shots with this plan in mind. Here you are at about a month old, wriggling out of my arms, and letting me know that my plans don’t matter very much to you — but that everything works out anyway.
Friday was your dad and I’s fifth wedding anniversary, and we spent a lot of time reflecting on how lucky we are to have found each other, and to have such a family as ours. You and your sister are an extension of our love, and as much as we loved getting out of the house for our date (you stayed home with Nana for the first time), everything we do and are now comes to fullness in you two. Part of me wants to freeze time, even though I hate it when I hear other mothers saying that; but a powerful part of me wants to see you continuing to grow. Because, let’s face it, you’re getting more interesting everyday. Just keep giving me these looks and I’ll know we did something right.
Follow the entire blog circle by clicking through to the next blog, a letter by Allie Shellaway.