Three Months

Dear North,

You have matured so much in the past month, I wonder if you are the same kid. At this exponential growth rate, by next week you may start to grow a moustache in an attempt to buy alcohol underage. But for now you are growing like a weed, discovering your hands, smiling at our hilarious jokes and talking back in your baby jibber jabber. It's amazing to watch your personality take shape, but sometimes I wish you would stay the same size you were at birth. I already find myself getting all misty when I look at pictures of you when you were born or happen upon any of your newborn-sized clothing that hung off you when we brought you home. I'm already working on an invention that will allow me to freeze time so you can't grow up anymore.

One of our favorite games to play with you is the "I love you" game. Sometimes after a feeding or a diaper change, you look up at one of us with your goofy grin and we say, "I love you." Then you answer, "I lllllllllllllllllleeeee." Then we repeat, "I love you." Then you declare, "I lllllllllllleeeeeuuu." This goes on ad nauseam until you become angry and don't want to play anymore. I'm guessing this is you mimicking noises and slowly learning to talk. And if someone wants to correct me and say that you are too young for that kind of development, that person is wrong and has never given birth to a genius. That person also has a stinky butt.

Speaking of stinking butts, you are a huge flirt little one. Today, we went grocery shopping with my mom and you spent the entire time perched on my shoulder making kissy faces at each other. I fear you are already looking for another woman to replace me. Sad face.

We took you on another mini vacation over the Fourth of July and again, you amazed us with your awesomeness. You're just so much easier than we ever dreamed you would be. We do almost all of the things we've always enjoyed doing, except now we push a stroller or carry a tiny person with us. Not to say that you don't still enjoy a good Screamfest '09----you do. But the crying is quickly forgotten as soon as that mischevious glint returns to your smiling eyes.

I was nervous about your reaction to fireworks after spending my last Fourth of July enveloping your dog brother and cupping my hands around his fluffy ears to calm him. When the first boom erupted in the sky, I scooped you up in an embrace of comfort. You seemed very alarmed by this. Then I realized you weren't screaming (unlike all the other wimpy babies I could hear screaming into the night). You were transfixed. In fact, I think you like fireworks almost as much as you like ceiling fans. Almost. You made not a peep the whole show and just stared up at the sky. We were so proud of you and repeated over and over to each other how awesome you are. That's kind of our job now.

Your father and I are much changed now on vacations. Whereas we used to enjoy a good adventure, now we are content to stroll around looking for nice backdrops so we can take countless pictures of you in front of them. Of course, we can't wait to take you camping, biking, kayaking and explore the world alongside of you in years to come. But for now, we are tickled to park ourselves under the shade of an oak tree on the North Carolina coast, while drinking blueberry beer and watch our naked little boy squirm on his towel. That is a memory I will carry with me forever. Regardless of the fact that you peed on me. Twice.