Owen,
Happy
ten months, little man. When you were a newborn, I would think ahead to the day
when you'd be older and could communicate more and tell me what you wanted. And
today I find myself thinking back to the newborn days and wishing I could have
glimpses back.
I want
to see "little" you again. The little you I could carry in one arm. Who would
swing in his little swing and watch the birds on his mobile and smile. Who
would fall asleep in our arms, and stay there for hours. Who would cry that
sweet baby cry every time you didn't have our undivided attention. Who
wouldn't fill out his clothes . . . ever. Who would stretch those baby
stretches and make me feel like the luckiest person on earth.
The
first time you smiled. The first time you laughed. The first time you held my
shoulders as if it were a hug. The first time you had a fever and we thought
the whole world had stopped. The first time you took your first spoonful of
food.
Can you
blame me for remembering all of this today? You are getting farther and farther
away from being a little baby and inching closer to being a little guy. You are
full of personality. You are so
independent. You do not want to be held, you want to play and dance and explore
on your own.
When I
look at you, I see the cutest, most loving, most giggly, most sweet, most
wonderful little boy. I see grace. Because I never did a single thing in my
life to deserve you, yet I have you.
You
bring me joy, Owen, and I love you.
Mommy
(not sure of weight/length but we go back to the doctor next week and I will update then)
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