Letter To A Four Month Old

Dear Matthew,

Three days ago you somehow managed to tumble, headfirst, into your fifth month of life. You were officially four months old on Sunday and I don't know how we've gotten to this, my favorite month in the life of a baby, so quickly. I adore four month olds. It has something to do with still being immobile but also being so alert and interactive. As far as these things are concerned, you haven't disappointed me. I'm not sure I've ever heard a more vocal baby. I kid you not, you don't shut up. You're either squealing, giggling, or babbling as you smile at anyone who will look at you, or you're crying because someone stopped talking to you for thirty seconds.

You are very seriously considering rolling from your back to your tummy. Matthew, all you have to do is throw your leg over and you'd be an official roller. At times, you are completely on your side with your arm totally out of the way but your legs are all, "Nah. Not today." It's alright. I'm in no hurry. I'm trying to savor each and every moment of your babyness while I simultaneously wish you into adolescence so you can just tell the court that you want to stay with us.

This month, you proved to everyone that you're my son by catching your first stomach flu--or something quite similar to the stomach flu. After two trips to the pediatrician in three days because of projectile vomiting, we're still not entirely sure what you had but we know it involved shooting barf three feet across the room. I was truly worried about the fact that my three month old was capable of such a feat. Garrett, on the other hand, cared mostly about the fact that you were throwing up on his floor and that it was, indeed, hitting his bookshelf which was several feet away. But don't think, even for one second, that he doesn't adore the ground you lay on. This month he has taken to saying, at least once a day, "I want Matthew to stay here forever and ever and ever." Every morning, when I am feeding you, he climbs up and says, "Good morning, Little Bud!" This is followed by rubbing your head and kissing some part of your body, usually your arm. Matthew, he is completely smitten with you.

You've driven from San Diego to Salt Lake City and now you've also driven from Salt Lake to Eugene, Oregon. We took you to the northwest to meet your Grandpa Gary, your aunts, and cousins. It took sixteen long hours to get there and we discovered that you're a great traveler for fourteen hours. You are not a fan of the car once the first fourteen hours have passed. You enjoyed Oregon, mostly because you were rarely put down. There isn't a shortage of aunts and cousins to play with and your Grandma and Grandpa are in love with you.

Thank you for smiling and laughing so often. It shows me how well adjusted you are. It reminds me that "it is no small thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us." -Dickens. Matthew, we love you more than you can ever begin to imagine. We love that you are happy. We love that you are healthy (mysterious vomiting excluded). We love that you have a family and, especially, a brother, who find you as irresistible as we do. My whole heart is yours, as well it should be. For you didn't grow under my heart, but in it. Thank you, Son, for allowing me the privilege of being your mother for these past four months. I love you!

-Mommy