Oh this boy, this boy.

How I love this baby boy.

T-minus 21 days till one. Breath in, breath out.

This is what happens when Matt dresses the baby.

#thatisall

Dear Saint,

This weekend you turned 11 months old.

You hop from here to there, you pull up to your knees, and you’re sleeping through the night in your own crib. You’re just as beautiful and sweet as you’ve always been, but there’s something more now too- you’re curious and bright. When something is taken from you, you screech. When something is funny you laugh. When something is in front of you, you’ll take it!

I’m sad that your first year is coming to an end- only because  I’d like to keep you as my baby forever- you’re so good at being a baby. I’m happy too though, because I love learning you, hearing you, and seeing you grow.

Next month will be very hard for me, but joyous for you. For the next 30 days lets just pretend you’ll be my baby forever, okay?

Happy 11 months my gorgeous boy. I love you to the moon and back.

Mama

I love watching you dance at ballet.

And even though last week was the worst meltdown of your entire life…my entire life,

I promise I won’t throw you under the bus when we go back and everyone asks me, what happened to you last week?

I promise to stand by you.

I know your heart.

I see what you see.

God help the woman who marries my sweet baby boy.
This is what I think nearly 10 times a day, Saint.

At 9 months you are a curious little somebody, eating twigs, leaves, bananas, and watermelon ( mostly).

You are clingy like a koala bear, I often call you Monkey Man, because you refuse to be put down…unless it’s to eat.

You don’t yet crawl, occasionally you’ll scoot. Your entertained almost exclusively by your sister.

We tell you things, show you the world, but the expression on your face reads Jude is not impressed.

Last night I told Daddy how I believe you are a lightening rod of emotion. You receive energy and feelings from the people and events taking place around you. Where there is unrest in the world, there is unrest within you. Where there is joy in our home, there is joy within you. I believe this to be your most valuable gift.

You are slow and deliberate with your actions. You are peaceful and calm and beautiful and serene. You are my heart, at the root of where my best self lives.

You are God, at the root of who I believe God to be- that’s the best way I can describe you now to your future self.

There is something magical within your soul that radiates light and absorbs the energy all around you.

You’re a magical, mystical being who we love. And more than that, you’re who we need.

Happy 9 months Saint.

(My titles for these post are getting cuter by the day- a quit, calm down Matt Willoughby I know it’s acquit, I looked it up)

Oh what a week it’s been, and yes I’m fully aware it’s only Tuesday.

So, Saint doesn’t sleep in his crib at night, like ever.

I’m thinking it might be because he doesn’t fit.

I mean, what does one do about this? If you know will you message me?

He seems happy though right?

I should take a picture of Matt and I and you can tell me if we look happy with our new roommate.

His sister was the independent type- she also slept the correct way in her crib, so, there’s that.

They should thank the good Lord above their so cute, it saves them every. single. day. #everysingleday

Also, I’m obsessed with hashtags or #- obsessed!!!!! I don’t twitter, I don’t know how, but I love hash tagging. Watch this one

#timeforwineandstringcheeseImsofancy

8 MONTHS

I could have posted a billion different photos to symbolize you at 8 months Saint,

but none of them would have captured you quite like the one I took of you this morning in our bed.

At 8 months you love your sister, Bob Marley, and  every food imaginable.

You clap, wave (not always on demand) say Da-Da and when you’re really worked up Ma! (As in MAAAAAA!!!!!) You are calm and peaceful and patient and beautiful.

You’re one alkalies heel is you can not stand to be alone…ever. You would prefer to be in someones arms at all times, but you’ll settle for someone to sit near you and chat. You are a cuddlier, like a warm fuzzy koala bear, in short you’re the most perfect being I could ever imagine.

We are blessed and highly favored, because we got you.

 Saint had his very first fever this weekend.

It’s sad when any baby is sick- sadder when it’s your happiest baby.

Since he doesn’t cry- to hear him cry and whine and fight sleep all night long, was a first for us. We haven’t spent a night trapped in our room with a crying, sick baby since….well our last crying baby. We made the best of it, watching The Office and singing gospel tunes. It’s all you can do when you have a sick little one, sing to the Lord and beg for the fever to break. (and call the doctor at 1am and get dressed for the hospital when it hits #onehundredandfivedegrees and then get told your ear temp might be wrong.

Here he is the next morning wrapped in my bath robe…

And here we are at the doctors office- it stinks to have a sick boy, but the cuddles are amazing.

His sister had bigger fish to fry, we can’t have a Sunday without IHOP.

And once the fever broke he started eating oranges and, everything else ,like a mad man.

This boy is the reason we’ll soon be joining Costco.

It’s worth mentioning he’s sitting up now. #secondchild, no one even noticed till we placed him down and he didn’t fall backwards.

Dear Saint,

You’re 6 months old! Can you believe it? I can’t, but I should seeing as how I brought you into this world just 6 months ago.

I’m sure by the time your sister was 6 months, I had written her countless of open letters. I’m sure they said things like Gracie, you are this and you are that and you are amazing- and even 3 years later I am still trying to find just the right words to describe your sister.I could write a 300 page book about your sister and by the end of the read I likely still wouldn’t be able to contain all that she is into one word, one sentence, or one phrase.

If I was writing about you however I wouldn’t need a book or even a sentence- I can sum you up in one single word. You Jude, are PEACEFUL. That’s your word and that’s who you are.

When they placed you on my chest 6 months ago you were hot to the touch; you were literally red. You cried and I said “Hey Jude”( I waited to say that for months). They gave you back to me and we’ve been in a snuggle lovefest ever since. In those early weeks Daddy and I thought it was a fluke when you would sleep all night only waking to feed and literally never crying or  uttering a single sound. We kept waiting for the “other shoe to drop,” only it never did. You simply fit into our life. Your transition from one world to this one was seamless; when you sleep I believe you are still visiting heaven.

I speak to you all of the time, you’ve never uttered a word; they’re the best conversations I’ve ever had.

You are so much more than one word, but you are so simply summed up in that one beautiful word. The word that people strive their entire lives to become. The word that folks travel to distant lands in an attempt to find.  The word that when achieved means you are closer to your best self, a higher power, and a bigger purpose. A word that if anyone had a real genie and three wishes, one is always for your word. A word that I have needed my whole life. Peace. You are full of peace.

Your peace gives our lives meaning and purpose. You make things better and you’ve never said a word.

*You do say Da-Da over and over but that doesn’t count because what you clearly mean is Mama.*

*Also that last pic, it only looks like your sister is trying to hurt you, I assure you I will not let that happen.*

He’s a fat, juicy, wonderfully pink, chubby baby boy.

That is all.