I have tried, several times actually, to sit down and write you the 6 month letter that you deserve. I wanted to be poignant and hilarious and loving all at once. I wanted this letter to be something that you read as an adult and it just floored you because you felt how happy we are to have you. But I can’t. I can’t because your teething has kept your father and I awake for two days. Literally. Two. Days. I know it is not your fault, but this morning at 3 am I didn’t feel necessarily fond of you or your bottom teeth. At 1:30 this morning your father wasn’t very fond of your teeth either, but we definitely still love you. Even though we are exhausted and your 6 month letter will take a toll.
And yet, you have your moments of nothing but amazing. Your laughter is hilarious. You snort when you get super excited. You love to be entertained and to soak in everything that is around you. You love it when your brother knows you are bored and he comes running in the room to try and make you laugh. You are incredibly ticklish, which is fun because you are one of the chunkiest babies I have ever seen. You are constantly on the lookout for the next punch line, which is fun because all we have to do is cover out faces and say “boo!” to make you think we are hilarious. But we are. Even when we are sleep deprived.
I have been reflecting on the last 6 months and I truly cannot believe how quickly they went. I strongly remember waiting to go in for my c-section to finally meet you and it felt like it took 20 times longer than these last 6 months. You are such an amazing baby. You are so sweet and so loving and everyone that gets to know you is just as amazed by you as your father and I are. Your temperament is unlike any child I have ever seen. You always have a smile, even if you are feeling awful. Every time I pick you up you nuzzle into my shoulder and hug me. You love to dance around the room and you adore any form of music. I love you because you can’t judge my out of pitch voice; you actually enjoy my rendition of the theme from Weeds quite a bit.
You have a crib, but you refuse to sleep in it. You prefer your swing while your father and I are awake and know instantly if we have gone to bed because you demand to sleep right next to us. I would argue, but I am often tired, and you are so squishy comfortable. You love to edge in right next to me and have the same ability as your brother to take up and entire queen sized mattress when you can’t even fill one yourself. You just keep growing out of clothing. We are probably going to have to start eating bargain brands just to keep you dressed. Seriously, Charli, how the hell does one baby grow at such a rapid rate!?
You love your brother. I mean that. You. Love. Him. And he loves that you love him, too. He constantly brings you toys to make you happy. As soon as you see him you light up. He tries to feed you bottles, brings me diapers when he decides you need to be changed, and watches you when I need him to. You both are such wonderful children and your Daddy and I feel constantly blessed to have the both of you. You have such an amazing gift of balancing everything in such a positive way.
Chunk, we love you. I wish this letter could have been full of better grammar and a better range of vocabulary. I wish that I could say something as meaningful as you are to us, but you have kept us awake for so long that I literally am thankful that I can even type. And that is okay. It’s okay because you are here and because you continue to bring such amazing things to our lives. We love you. We simply love you and adore all that you are. You are so chunky and so funny and you make all of those moments better. We are a family and that means everything to us. So keep teething, keep laughing, and most of all keep being you. By the time you can understand all of these words you will be an even more amazing version of yourself – but I honestly have no idea how you can accomplish that.
We love you. I love you.