12 Weeks

Dear Tater,

Today you are 12 weeks old. We are officially to the point in your life where I can refer to you in months instead of weeks, and let me tell you little one, it is going by WAY to quickly. My maternity leave was originally supposed to end when you were 12 weeks old, but my lovely workplace is allowing me to have a few more wonderful weeks at home with you. So instead of writing this from my desk at work as I’d feared, I’m instead doing so with your little self snoozing in the swing next to me. Life is good.

When you were about 9 weeks old, I took you to you to the doctor for a checkup and to receive your first immunizations. While the shots were awful, I have to say, I held it together much better then I did with your sister. Part of this, I’m sure, is due to your happy little spirit and how you just refuse to let anyone around you be sad or scared. Sure, you cried when they stuck the first of four needles in your chubby little leg, but as soon as it was over you looked up at me and flashed a big grin. That is the very epitome of your personality, Tate. You may get upset here and there, and like all little ones you have your unhappy moments, but in general, you tend to just be a elated, smiley little dude.

At that same appointment the doctor told us the next few weeks would be some of the most fun, as you’d go from newborn blob to a real baby…discovering new things daily and responding to us like you hadn’t before. Last weekend, at a lovely baby shower that my friends threw for us, you belly laughed for the first time. I heard you from across the room, and when I looked over, your Aunt Connie had you held high above her head in a superman pose, and you were just laughing from way down deep inside. Since that day your sister and I have spent countless hours tickling your little arms and legs and belly trying to get you to laugh.

Speaking of your sister, she is probably your favorite person in the whole world. I am constantly worried that how she tends to be IN YOUR FACE all the time is upsetting to you, but you love it. When she walks (skips, runs, jumps) into a room, your head snaps to the direction of her voice and when she lays nose to nose with you in our bed, you laugh and laugh. Sometimes I am afraid you are not getting enough one on one time with me and your father, but then I remember that you will have something even better. A big sister who loves you more than anything. You are one lucky little monster.

This upcoming month will be hard for us, I’m sure. The weather will get warmer, the snow will melt, we will spend more of our time outside…and then BAM. Back to work for me and off to daycare for you. To say you are a bit attached to me is a definite understatement, and I’m, of course, concerned about how this change will affect you. Although, having done this once before, I know it is me, and not you, who will suffer the most. You will be fine, most certainly happy. I will be the one bawling at my desk, writing your 16 week letter.

But no matter what, Tater Tot, your life will continue to get better and better. And my life is better each day because you are in it.

Love,
Mama