Erin Loves Brad: Letter to my Little Bear

Friday, December 6, 2013

Letter to my Little Bear

Bear.

Stop growing up. Remember how I gave birth to you? With great difficulty, I might add. I think that entitles me to insist that you stop growing up. Actually, I demand it.

<takes a deep, calming breath>

Knowing that you won't heed my demands at all, I'll just grit my teeth and acknowledge that you are, in fact, growing very fast.

Well, maybe that's not entirely accurate. Your weight, according to the doctor, puts you in the petite sector of the world. The circumference of your head, though, just recently went from 94% to 86%...you still have a rather large noggin, girlfriend. Your length has regulated a little bit, which is probably good, seeing as your were getting longer and longer with no end in sight...and yet your weight wasn't keeping up. This didn't actually bother us, but the doctor kept giving me questioning looks, as if to insinuate that you weren't eating enough.

Now, that assumption is so so SO not true. You eat really well. You still have no teeth (at 9 months...), so you have become really adept at gumming up your food. I've started making your food less pureed and more coarse, and you've handled it like a champ. In fact, when I got lazy the other day and opted to give you jarred baby food from the store, you were very anti the liquid-y texture. You looked at me and said, "Mom, this stuff is for babies." Or, at least, that's what it sound like to me. Speaking of sounds, you babble all the time. It's awesome. Your best sound is "dadadadada."

We love that you are really into your toes. It's adorable. You're also laughing a lot and starting to be really involved in playing. You do this thing where you lower your head (like, with your chin almost touching your chest) and cut your eyes up at us like you're up to something. Hilarious. You like peek-a-boo (usually we throw a burp cloth or something onto your head and you yank it off). You also like playing with empty plastic containers, and you LOVE playing with remotes. That's weird, Bear.

You still aren't crawling and become REALLY offended if we try to position you so that you might. The doctor told us just to stop attempting it and to help you work on pulling up instead. You much prefer that. I mean, who really wants to damage the knees of her pants by crawling everywhere?

Also, you are a CHAMP at sleeping. 12 hours, baby. All night long. We LOVE LOVE LOVE this about you.

(I should point out that this is not at our house; her crib is not this big, and we do not have that much natural sunlight anywhere in our home.)

It should also be noted that you were thrilled about the results of the Iron Bowl. I'm really sorry for scaring you with my shrieks and howls of delight. But, seriously...WAR EAGLE!

I just want to squeeze your cheeks all the time! Oh wait...I do. You love it. (not all the time, but sometimes I pretend that you do.)

Note the remote in her left hand.

We think you're just the best and get prettier everyday (although, beauty is not a necessary quality in life. It's much better to be kind. And smart. Keep that in mind. #lifelessonsfrommom).

XOXOXO (<---two from me, one from daddy)