Harrison! My love!
It’s Momma again, and you are officially a six-month old. Whether I like it or not. (I like it… and not, too.)
This letter is a day behind because I’ve been trying to gather my thoughts and figure out exactly what I want to say to you on this pretty significant “milestone” birthday. That, and I take literally hundreds of pictures of you every month and it takes a while to sort through ‘em all. Either way, I hope I don’t disappoint. If I do, there’s always next month’s letter to redeem myself.
A lot can happen in half a year.
It’s been half a year since you decided to bring on contractions for Momma during her baby shower.
It’s been half a year since you broke my water all over the bedroom and bathroom floors in a rush to meet me and Daddy.
It’s been half a year since Daddy and I took that fateful, anticipatory, fast trip to the hospital. (I’m still working on your birth story…maybe that will be ready by the time you’re 1!)
It’s been half a year that I’ve been studying every move, every expression, and every detail on your body from your tiny snaggle toe to your now (somewhat) impressive head of hair.
Half a year.
You’re growing tremendously and continuing to climb the percentiles.
You’re officially 83% for height and 56% for weight, clocking in at 27.5” long and 17lbs, 12oz. One of Mommy and Daddy’s favorite activities is to look at pictures of you from half a year ago. It’s fascinating and unbelievable and wild all at the same time.
Each time Griffin so much as lifts a paw, you break into a full-on grin.
That dog can do no wrong in your book and we love that.
Last month, we took another road trip to Cape Cod. You loved the beach and the waves, and that made Momma so happy. Okay… the bear coat and Baby Banz don’t hurt either…
Once again, you were a champ in the car and in your new surroundings.
We’ve been pretty busy this last month. We went hiking a few times and you really seemed to love it.
We spent countless summer afternoons lounging in the backyard, which will be among my greatest memories of this past summer.
You’re still as active as you were when I carried you inside of me. If I didn’t put you down for a nap each morning and each afternoon, I bet you’d try to go all day without sleeping. Especially now that you’re getting so good at sitting up without me or Daddy!
With naps or without ‘em, all of that activity makes you quite the tired boy at the end of the day.
Bedtime continues to be one of my favorite times with you. We have a bath and we read books and we snuggle up tight in the rocker. It’s heaven on Earth. Your hands wrap around my fingers and the heel of my hand rests on your chest. I feel your heart beating furiously beneath your skin and I focus on it each and every night, thanking God infinitely for bringing you into my world. You wake up to feed once after that last bedtime snuggle and you’re always oh so sleepy. The room is pitch black and we rock and I hum to you and it convinces me that we’ll forever be entwined, you and I.
There was one very special moment in the last month that I want to remember forever, so I wrote it down. After feeding in the middle of the night, you were laying across my body. I pulled you up on my shoulder and your tiny hand found mine. In the dim glow of the night light, your head burrowed deeply in to the crook of my neck and we slowly danced and twirled as I sang you back to sleep. I shed streams of silent, wet, joyful tears that ran down my face and onto your head. I brushed my tears back into your hair. While you nodded off to dreamland, the fingers on your other hand traced my neck from behind my ear to my collarbone. Back and forth… back and forth. Perhaps it was your way of comforting me when you sensed my tears - albeit happy tears. On your wedding day, when you’re dancing with your old Momma, know that I’ll be thinking of that night when you were still so helpless and tiny, and we danced while I cried and you comforted me.
Now that I’m in tears rewriting that moment, I think I’ll wrap it up.
You, my love, are my world. My whole world.
Endless, freight-train love,
Mommy (Daddy, too, of course!)