Saturday, March 13, 2010

three months

























Dear Eleanor Jane,

You are growing too much!  Every day I wake to find you a bit bigger.  It's bittersweet.  You get cuter by the minute, but at the expense of your smallness. Last week, when telling your grandma about something you did weeks ago, she laughed at me when I started my sentence with, "when Ellie was a baby..."  Silly mama, I know.

This past month has been filled with a lot of learning.  Mainly, that you want us to put you down.  After weeks of walking around, swaying, rocking, shushing, dancing, singing, and all around begging you to go to sleep, we discovered that you really only wanted us to wrap you up and put you in your bed.  Oh, and pop a binkie in your mouth - at least three thousand times before you fall asleep.  But we do it willingly because suddenly, you take naps!  And you have a schedule!  And your daddy and I can eat dinner!  Hallelujah!  You may laugh about that, but seriously, it was bad.  Not just three weeks ago, after discussing the millions of different ideas out there, your exhausted daddy said, "right now, if someone told me to dancing around with chicken bones would work, I would do it."  Please note this is your daddy, whom I have to give a few beers before I even try begging to get on a dance floor.  Yep, he'll do anything for his girl...and some sleep.

But speaking of your daddy, this month marked a special birthday for you both. On March 4th, you turned the big three months, and your daddy turned the big three-oh.  He used to tell me that he couldn't imagine life after thirty.  But since you've come, what he can't imagine is life without you.  We often talk about how we can't remember what it was that we used to do with ourselves before you arrived.  My goodness, we had a lot of spare time!

















Now all of our time is filled with watching you discover your world.  I think we can safely say you are a social baby.  You offer a smile to anyone who coos at you. Wide mouthed and toothless; it melts each and every heart.  You started laughing at 13 weeks - just in time for Grandma's visit.  We spent hours sitting on the floor with you, drinking pots of coffee while making all sorts of silly faces and noises to get you to laugh.  Each delightful squeal was well worth the effort.  And the talking!  Oh my, do you have a lot to say!  No one needs an alarm clock in this house - you makes sure everyone is up with your good-morning discussions!  Good job, my little one, I think you sealed the deal to get Grandma to fly back in June.

Well, my sweet, you're another month older.  Time sure does fly...

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