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Monthly Archives: July 2012

Dear Corwin,

During your 7th month, you learned how to sit unsupported, crawled faster, and learned to play on your own for 20 minutes at a time. I thought you would learn how to sit unassisted earlier, because you’ve been doing everything else earlier than expected. (You lifted your head to look at me when you were 2 days old, and you started rolling over on your 3rd month, much to your father’s dismay, who liked it when you slept on his chest at night.) Sitting independently took this long because, well, you simply refused to stay put.

‘Till this month, you wanted to be always moving, always bouncing, always crawling, always lunging and reaching for things to lick and gum. It’s like you’re one big ball of excitement that’s perpetually on the brink of exploding, and I am developing muscles in places I didn’t even know existed, just trying to keep up with you. But we’re teaching you that it’s okay to be still, and it seems to be working. I watch you while you play on your own. You don’t notice, but I’m always there.

You turn the pages of all your board books during story time now. You use your entire right arm to turn the page. Hee. I’m so proud of you. You’re an enthusiastic little reader, and very much our son this way. It brings me joy to see you love books just as much as we do.

You’re such a happy baby, and so insanely cute, sometimes I want to gnaw on your cheeks a bit. Okay, this happens often, if I’m being honest. You eagerly reciprocate by gnawing on my chin. You have the funniest facial expressions EVER. You rarely cry, but when you do, your father and I have to resist the urge to laugh. I’m sorry. It’s just so ridiculously wonderful and funny how you’re this wee little person that came from us and you have feelings. Lots and lots of it.

You stare at people and I can see you thinking, trying to figure them out. When they pass whatever checklist you have in that big little head of yours, you reward them with the sweetest of smiles. We just got home from your 8th month birthday dinner that your Tita Mel prepared. When you warmed up to them, you were so chatty and silly and you showed them all your smiles. I don’t think you realize how happy you make everyone around you.

I’m so in love with you, and I worry I’ll never be able to put into words exactly how much. But I will always, always love trying.


Dear Corwin,

It has come to my attention that you get the cranky pants from me. Okay, we’ve all actually known this for some time now, but I had a rough day yesterday, and it has come to my attention again. You’re happy most of the time, but you have my fiery temperament. I wished so much you would get your father’s. He’s mellow, unflappable, constant, and patient. These all great things I aspire to. I sincerely hope he rubs off on you over time.

I hope you learn to channel that fire in you into creative things, that you find your passion and pursue it. You light up the entire room, the world, when you’re happy. You feel things deeply, greatly, and it’s startling for such a little boy. I worry you might experience the lows intensely as well when you’re older. Don’t ever be tempted to linger on the sadness. I held on to melancholy for so long when I was younger, and it was unnecessary heartache. Always, always choose to be happy, love.

More than anything, I hope with all my heart that when you’re the right age, you find what I have been unbelievably lucky enough to have found in your father: someone who will love you, hold you, and make you laugh, even on your worst days. They say the best thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. Your father has done right by you. Many times over.


My dad’s visiting right now. He brought this with him, my old View-Master 3D. This brings me back to my childhood, and it’s such a beautiful feeling, this nostalgia. I should save some of my son’s toys.