Wednesday, September 8, 2010

1 Year 5 Months

Dear North,

September is upon us and with it the end of summer. As we move into the thankfully cooler temperatures of fall, I welcome the relief from the oppressive heat and am excited by the prospect of many camping adventures in the next few weeks. We just bought a new to us pop up camper to make these adventures even more enjoyable for all of us.

You were particularly fond of playing in the galley sink, with your body snugly wedged between the back of the counter and the camper's screened window. Much of your time inside was spent squeezing the bubbles out of the sponge and then wiping the bubbles off everything. Thankfully, you haven't attempted to rotate the sink handles to turn the faucet on yet. Your dad and I work as a team, one of us distracting you while the other slyly uses the water as quickly as possible. I hate to think about the day you open the flood gates, but I promise to laugh when it inevitably happens since I've just jinxed myself.

You're still taking two naps per day and sleep about eleven hours per night, which was a great concern of mine going into this trip. You do great in a crib, but you've never slept in your own bed or with us. The first night we set up camp, we decided to have you sleep on the convertible bed/dinette area because it's the shortest bed. We stuffed the exposed side of the bed with pillows, just in case you rolled off in the night. Aided by the blue glow from the radio light, all night long, your father and I checked on you to make sure you were okay. Around three in the morning, I woke up and you were gone. My stomach dropped as my body sprung to action. I scanned the room but there was no trace of you, a lamby or a binkie in sight. Perched on top of the table bed, I reached under the table to the cubby area and felt your fuzzy head. I may have possibly poked you in the eye too. They say to never wake a sleeping baby and I'm certainly not disputing what "they" say so early in the morning. I heard murmurs from the table depths about an hour later and rescued you. You slept between us on the king sized mattress after that, which became one of our favorite memories of this trip.

When we needed a break from chasing you back and forth around the campsite, your dad would sit with you while you played in the truck. The inside of a vehicle is a wonderland for you, but the truck seems to be your favorite.

This will be the picture that will break my heart when I look back years from now and reflect on how little you were. So don't be surprised if I make you wear a sleep sack into your teenage years.

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