Today you turned six months old. My how you have grown. Just a few days ago, the doctor weighed you at more than 12 pounds. That means you are catching up to babies who were born after nine months in their mothers. You do not need extra formula any more, just mom's milk. And you are outgrowing all of the nice newborn clothes our friends and family bought for you.
We could not have been happier. Or so we thought.
Three days ago, while I was strapping you into your car seat, you smiled at me. I smiled back. Your smile grew bigger and bigger. I laughed. And then you giggled. It was your first laugh. Your mother was by the car and heard it. She came running back into the house. I laughed again, and so did you. I decided that was the best sound I have ever heard.
Soon, though, things will change around the house.
Your mother is going back to work in two days, and she feels like it is too soon. Most people our age want things to speed up -- traffic, lines, the Internet, and so on. We are happy to take our time with you, however. You don't need your teeth yet. You don't need to eat solid food yet. You don't need to be out of diapers, or sitting up, or crawling around, or anything else other than being who you are right now.
This is hard for adults, to be right here right now. We often think about other places and other times. We think about past or the future. We think about home while we are at work, or work while we are at home. I think about all the chores that have to be done. A lot.
You have a way of bring us back to here and now, for which I will always be grateful.
I have only taken off one or two days since you were born two-and-a-half months early. That way your mother could be with you as long as possible. On the day your mother goes back to work, I will be taking two weeks to spend with you. And then, just before Christmas, my mother will come to spend three whole months taking care of you during the day while your mother and I both work. Thankfully, we will always be close by and should get to see you at lunch time several days a week.
Well, it is late. You and mom are asleep. I have not written nearly as much as I would have liked to these past few months. I will try better. But know, no matter what, you are always in my heart.
Love,
Dad