Happy Three Months: A Letter to Arlo

Dear Arlo,

You're three months old today, and you chose this morning to give us your biggest belly laugh to date. You closed your eyes, scrunched your little nose, and just went for it. Your shoulders shook, you were so into it! The best part is that nothing even remotely funny was happening at the time. I'm so grateful your daddy and I were both there to witness it. What a beautful start to a month.

You're the center of my universe. When I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you, counting down the minutes until you're in my arms again. Fortunately, I can zip home during my lunch break most days, so I can squeeze in a couple snuggles to help get me through the rest of my workday, when I can hurry home to you.

You and I have a connection, kid, the way a mommy and her baby should, I suppose. My absolute favorite moments are when we're lying down, side by side, just staring at each other's faces. You look into my eyes and study my face like it's the most amazing thing you've ever seen. I do the same to you. Your face, hands down, is the most amazing thing I've ever seen. Every day, I look at you and am still blown away that you're here, and you're mine.

I've memorized everything about you. You are such a good-looking boy. Those dark eyebrows, long lashes, and wide eyes. That perfectly-shaped nose and those full lips. Your intricate little ears are one of the first things I commented on the first time I held you. I didn't realize it then, but one of them comes to a point, and I call it your elf ear, which your daddy hates. He thinks I'm going to give you a complex and make you feel less than perfect. The truth is, these tiny "flaws," like the wrinkle at the top of your nose, make you more interesting, and therefore, even more perfect. Nobody besides your mommy, who's spent a million hours staring at you, will ever notice these details, except maybe a girl who falls in love with you someday, years and years from now. She'll love these perfect imperfections, too.  

You certainly have your moments, but for the most part, you're a content baby. You love to smile, and your giggles are getting more frequent. The other day, you were so smiley and happy that your daddy cried when he had to leave you to go to work. We can always count on you being happy in the mornings, which makes it a lot easier for your morning-hating mommy to get out of bed every day.

You like to grab onto lightweight things, like your burp cloths and a small stuffed monkey blankie that Mike Blanc's family gave you. Inevitably, you stick whatever you're holding straight into your mouth. If you don't have anything in your hands, you stuff those into your mouth. A thumb isn't enough for you. You try to get your whole fist in there. You enjoy kicking the hangy toys in your bouncy seat, and your jumperoo is still too big for you, but you like to sit in it and watch Mommy or Daddy play with the toys on it. You'll be able to reach them soon, and I know you'll love them. 

You adore being outside. I can see you listening to the birds. Your eyes dart here and there, trying to find the source of that beautiful sound (a sound I'd completely stopped noticing). You hold your arms over your head and coo away, enjoying the feeling of the wind between your outstretched fingers. Watching you experience things for the first time, like the feel of Scooter's fur on your toes, is magical. Everything is so brand new and exciting for you.

I love you with everything I have, but even that doesn't seem like enough compensation for all you've done for me. Thank you for hanging on when the odds weren't in our favor, for helping me hear the birds sing again, for the absolute joy you bring to my life every single day. Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times over.

Love,

Mommy