Pumpkinhead

Ethan,

Guess what? You are three months old! Well, you were newly three months old 11 days ago but you're still three months old now, so it counts. And at three months, you are becoming such a fun little dude.

We just started you sleeping in the crib this month and it's going perfectly. When you were born, you'd spit up your milk if we laid you flat on your back to sleep, so you've been sleeping in a bouncy chair loaned by your Aunt Sara and Uncle Dustin. Now you're too big for it, which ends up being perfect timing since you seem to enjoy sleeping all stretched out now.

 

You are the happiest in the mornings, as I suspect most babies are, after you've had a nice long sleep. It's easy to make you smile and chuckle, just talking to you will do it, and your occasional hoots of laughter are extraordinarily satisfying to us! I like to blow gentle zerberts on your stomach, because you get startled if I do it too quickly or hard, but when I get them just right they tickle you. Dad loves to make faces and see if you copy them, which you sometimes do! Other times, you try to contort your face into the right shapes while we cheer you on.

We usually wait to go into your room in the mornings to greet you until you've called us, but on the rare occasion you sleep until we've finished up all our morning pre-work tasks, it's kind of hard to wake you. You'll open your eyes for a moment and glare at us, then determinedly shut them and try to go back to sleep. Which is so dang cute that I'm always tempted to let you sleep and just go to work late...but then I'd have to leave work late, and pick you up late, and then I know your post-work snack would turn into your bedtime nursing and we won't get to spend any time with you. And let me tell you, it already sucks going to work and missing eight hours of your daytime activities. Maybe I will just have to dream up a way of working at home! Anyway, it always takes you a few minutes to get your bearings when we have to wake you-- you look around grumpily with slitted eyes and a furrowed brow, but we can usually get a smile out of you before too long.

You love to wiggle and fling your arms around, and you especially love to kick. I can always tell when you've gotten an idea or something has excited you, because your legs go crazy! It almost seems like a manner of communication for you-- sometimes when we're in the middle of a diaper change, I'll lean down to give you a kiss, and several times you've lifted your foot and placed it directly on my shoulder. And left it there while staring at me. It's kind of hilarious. Your dad is convinced you'll be a great soccer player and I hope he's right! Right now it's looking like you use your left hand and foot predominantly. But, you know, you're three months old. We're probably wrong.

Today we took you to the pumpkin patch! Not because you'll care or remember it, but because we wanted cute pictures. Even though you had just gotten up from a long nap and were happy as a clam before leaving the house...you were not a fan of the outing.

You kept turning your head as far to the left as it would go-- which, by the way, wow-- so here, your dad's trying to encourage you to look at me so I could maybe make you smile.

 

Clearly I was successful!

 

But seriously, you are a delightful baby and every day with you is a total joy. I want to go into your room and snuggle my face into your squishy baby rolls right now!

 

Just kidding. Keep sleeping, baby boy!

 

Love,

Mama 



Blessings

Ethan,

I know your dad has already begun a journal of sorts for you, but I already have this blog and I may as well write in it, right? Three months late. :) Or months or years late, if you want to take into account how long I've had this and how long it's been since I wrote in it.

Today seems like an auspicious day to start up again since it was the day of your baby blessing. I read somewhere once that in Bali (I think), babies are carried by their parents for the first 180 days of their lives, no part of them ever never touching the ground. They aren't named and are simply kept alive, carefully. It isn't until the end of that 180 day period that they are celebrated with a grand party, given names and allowed to touch the earth, the rationale being that if a child that young was to die, it belonged to the gods anyway, not to their human community on earth. Once that period of limbo passes, the babies then belong to their families and are tied to the land. While I wouldn't ever say you belonged to the gods at pretty much any point past the moment you left my womb, I thought it a good parallel to begin writing to you today, the day you were celebrated and officially "sent off" onto your great journey of life. Plus, several local people I admire (Lara, Princess Lasertron, your dad of course) write monthly letters to their babies and I want that record for you, too!

We aren't religious. We both grew up Catholic but left the church for varying reasons, the explanations of which I'm sure you'll be subjected to throughout your life. I feel more spiritual-agnostic, personally, and I think your dad feels the same (although he'll gruffly say he's atheist-agnostic. Get a drink in him and he'll soften up). Regardless, we both felt it was right to have some sort of ceremony officially welcoming such an amazing addition to our lives--you-- and speaking to the hopes we have for and promises we make to you as your parents. Plus, it made your Grandma Magnuson really happy to have something slightly resembling a baptism. ;) So we planned this totally personalized, non-traditional gig with secular readings, a Beatles song, a pagan ritual, Christian oil to rub on your body, and invited lots of people who love you.

It was great. It was a beautiful, cool and sunny fall day out. I filled your tummy ahead of time so you'd be content and quiet throughout. You wore this ADORABLE hand-woven jumper and booties we bought in Guatemala in 2009 (we figured we'd have a baby someday). Your grandma and great-grandma Magnuson made some little hors d'oevres and I bought cupcakes and pumpkin whoopie pies from my friend Joni. Your Mimms (Grandma Lawson, just in case that nickname doesn't stick) listened to the ceremony via Skype; unfortunately, the video feature wasn't working. What can you expect from a free service, right? Several of our closest friends came, some with their own babies. Everyone spoke some words of blessing or wishes for you, and wove a ribbon onto a wreath for you to represent their sentiments. And we, your mom and dad, were humbled and pleased to find ourselves surrounded by people gathered there for a common purpose-- to show love and honor to our greatest joy, our first child, our unbelievably perfect boy. You.

Welcome to this life, Ethan. You're going to love it.