July Letters to My Son | Personal Photos

This post is part of an ongoing blog circle with several other woman photographers, writing monthly letters to our children.  Link to the next letter is at the bottom of this post.  It’s been a great way for me to document more intentionally the connection I have with my son, born in April, despite the chaos of our daily lives!

3 months old

Dear Benjamin,

Well, we survived the move.  This month we completed our move into our tiny new home, with your own bedroom, and sold our old house.  The house we brought you and your sister home to from the hospital, the house where your dad and I became a family.  It’s been an emotional month for me, and a frustrating one, with endless unpacking and circular cleaning that never seems to end.  Have you grown this month?  Have I noticed it with the whirlwind of activity around here, and the other scares in our family that haven’t quite been resolved yet?

Of course you have grown.  In size, probably (you fit snugly into your 3-6 month clothes), and definitely in personality.  Your hair has grown, and your little Alfalfa sprout in back is the first thing anyone notices about you.  Nana wants me to trim it right off!  Which of course I won’t do.  You are still, like all babies, cycling between gurgly and adorable smiles, and the-world-is-ending screams.  Something new you’ve started is chirping — when you’re supremely happy, you sit there and squawk to yourself several times in a row, thrilled each time.  It’s jarring but hilarious.  You reach for toys and pull them to your face.  You love Piggy, on your bouncer, and your love of mobiles has not diminished.  Everything you grab goes to your mouth now, except for pacifiers, which you bumble around with and which ultimately land on your chest, rejected.

Baby's eye view

You’re sleeping through the night, and I mean all the way through the night: about 8 or 9 pm until 6:30 am most nights.  It’s divine, except on the once-a-week occasions when you do stay up later or wake up at 3 am, because Dad and I have apparently lost our ability to deal with that in any capacity.  I’m worried that I’m still not giving you the tummy time that I should — if I do, you don’t nap, and then you don’t sleep at night — but at least you’re spending more time in the (soft) bouncer and less in the (hard) swing during the day.  Elodie has started to play with you a little more… energetically, which of course I do not like — she is constantly giving you little smacks on the chest or grabbing your arm.  She also lays down next to you in your jungle gym and gently shows you the toys that are hanging, and that is something your dad and I love to watch.  You pay such close attention when she is looking at you or talking near you.  I can already see that she will be your first real teacher in life, and I’m so glad that Elodie already names you when we ask her about her friends (“Lily, Michael, Baby, Nina, Mommy, Daddy” is a typical response to this question).

3 month old on bed

3 months old boy - black & white

It’s been a month full of family visits, between Pop-pop and your uncle’s trip down, and spending more quality time out in Sugar Land with Nana and Grandpa.  You’re surrounded by love and attention, even if that attention is a little strained with your sister taking up so much herself.  You don’t let us forget about you, and I am completely cherishing the time I get to spend alone with you each weekday.  Holding your tiny body close to me as you nurse, or look around the room, or squeal with delight, or cry until you’re properly bounced and walked around, is the best and warmest feeling I could have.  You are like my little boyfriend (I will continue to think of that advice from my cousin for as long as you are small), and I hope you stay that way for at least a little while longer.  I return to work in two weeks, and I’m not sure my heart is prepared to give up that time together just yet — but I will get there, and you will love your new world, just as we saw Elodie did.

Love, Mom

To read all of the letters to our children, click here to visit Kristy’s blog, and continue through until you end up back here.

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