I have to confess that I have had less time to prepare these letters to you than I did with your sister’s letters. Your sister is the best, but with both of you I haven’t had as much quiet time to ponder all the things I want to remember to tell you or to think through how best to capture my feelings and reflections in words. I worry that my letters to you may be a lot less articulate than your sister’s (sorry) and much more a collection of small fragments of thoughts and observations. I am perfectly imperfect, my love. But weekly letters you will have regardless of their eloquence.
So much is different with your arrival and first few weeks than it was with your sister. We are more together and more hectic, life is moving so much more quickly than it did with her (mostly because she’s running around this time and keeping us on our toes). We are more confident and less anxious. In so many ways, we are just so much more on it this time around.
I have loved all the stages of parenting so far with your sister, but your arrival has reminded me how much I adore this new stage of life. I adore your tiny, cuddly warmth and the smell of your skin and the soft fuzz of your hair . . . the tight clasp of your tiny five fingers around mine, the bright blue-eyed look as you start to visually grasp onto objects, and your sweet, slow yawn that stops time. I love to put my cheek agains yours (so soft) and feel the weight of your breathing, so small and fragile but steady. These early days and weeks are all about growing. We are focused on feeding you and cuddling you and filling you with love.
I feel much more in my element with your arrival. In the peace and calm confidence that comes with parenting a second child, I have been able to be more fully present in the moments, soaking you in without as many doubts or fears. These first few weeks have been such a gift. I know these days are fleeting in a way that you can only know when you’ve been through it once before. . . I know that every day you are gaining another ounce until you’ll be smiling and running and cackling throughout out the house like your sister. So I’ve spent a lot of time this week rubbing your head, holding your hands, kissing your cheeks, feeling the weight of you in my arms, and just staring at you.
I’m so grateful that your Papa has taken so much leave. He’s been a huge help, but I most love watching him stare adoringly down at you. He loves you so, so much.
You, my son, are a pure joy. I hesitate to brand you an “easy baby” this early on without spitting over my shoulder or knocking on wood, but you have been so chill and easy going so far. You cry very seldomly (mostly always when you’re in your carseat-you hate that thing), and you’re mostly just along for the ride. It’s a good thing given how active (cough) your sister is right now. I am already so excited to see you two grow together, to become friends, to play together. I think you’re going to have a blast together. You’re so lucky you have each other.
You’ve started to fill out a bit. Your cheeks are slowly coming in, and you’re losing a bit of your old man flappy skin and you gain weight slowly.
We’ve learned that you do not like spicy food yet.
You’ve had a lot of gas. 🙂 Like adult-sized gas. and you’ve handled it like a champ.
You still have a dusty coating of dark hair on your back and shoulders.
We think we may have spotted at least one of your father’s dimples in your cheeks when you’ve laughed and smiled while you were asleep.
We spent our second and last week with Gigi, and we explored the city. You’ve been to Target multiple times now :), and you had your first trip to the zoo (you slept through it). You’ve traveled all around our neighborhood and felt the warm of the sunshine (just for a few seconds before I’ve covered you up :). As it always does, the time with her went by so fast. I feel so lucky to have had her here, keeping me laughing and sane and grounded as she always does. Luckily we’ll see her again in a few short weeks when you and I head to the Bama for a visit.
It is an honor to watch you grow and change, my love. I’m so grateful and excited that you’re here. All those months we spent together you and I, as you grew inside my belly and I waited to meet you–those months felt like such an eternity at the time. Now they seem so far away in the past.
You are so loved, my dear August, always,