Six Months

Dearest Maximilian,

In the last six months I've realized that there are a few things I've forgotten about having a baby.

Like how going out is similar to working next to a time bomb. You wake up. I feed you and then it's a race to get out the door and do the errand before it's nap time again.

Like how it doesn't matter how prepared I think I am, you will manage to explode out of your diaper when we're out it public, there's no changing table, I have no diapers and I'm down to my last wipe.

Like how hard it is to hold a 21 pound weight for long periods of time, and how that weight sends my arms into spasms and gets my back out of whack.

However, there are a few other things that you have helped me to remember.

Like how sweet it is to peek over the edge of the crib only to be greeted by the biggest smile on the planet and to have that smile start the legs kicking and the arms waving in total joy.

Like how much I love feeding you before bed at night while your little hand clutches my finger and your big baby blues stare at me in total contentment.

Like how much I love holding you while you are sleeping - always just a few minutes longer - because the feeling of you totally relaxed while snuggled into my body is a feeling that I'm sure exists in heaven.

Like how everything is brand new for you and every effort is a major achievement worthy of praise from everyone around you.

Don't you ever think for one second that you are any less a part of this family or any less loved than anyone else. If anything, feel blessed that you have more love because you're surrounded by even more people who love you almost as much as I do (because you know that no one can love you more than me). You were born to parents who are a little wiser, a bit more relaxed and a lot more together than we were the first time around.

And, Mr. Max, we are like that because God gave you to us and we wouldn't have it any other way!