Five months

Dear Kyle,

Just yesterday, you figured out how to play your own version of peek-a-boo with me. You buried your face into my chest and then looked at me, and I laughed. Then you got a sneaky smile on your face and did it again and again and again, waiting for me to laugh each time. Basically, kid, YOU ARE BRILLIANT. Some may say I'm tainted with mom eyes, but to them I'd say TRYING TO MAKE ME LAUGH AT FIVE MONTHS OF AGE. That's hands-down proof right there. Can't convince me otherwise.

This month has been crazy, just as all the months since your birth have been, it seems -- drop a baby into anyone's lives, and I'm sure the adjective they'd use to describe things would be CAH-RAZY -- but this month we decided to buy our first house and move into it, and, boy, did that take the crazy up a notch. Your father and I have moved a lot in the course of our relationship, but moving with a baby is different in that it sucks about 85 times more. And a few weekends in a row disrupting your nap schedule rightly pissed you off. Our first official day in our new home was last Sunday, and you spent most of that day screaming. I couldn't even blame you. I wanted to do precisely the same thing. We had family in town, so we needed to go to dinner as there was nowhere to eat at our new place except the back porch, and on that particular day it was something like 178 degrees outside. I was internally FREAKING OUT because taking you out in public in your state was like poking the world's largest and grumpiest bear. WITH A BRANDING IRON. Who takes a tired, screaming baby out to a restaurant? Well. I do. But, get this, you didn't make a peep the entire time at dinner and THEN you slept through the night that night and basically have every night since then. I KNOW! We should have moved the first week you were born!

Sleeping through the night is the milestone I have been (im)patiently waiting for and dreaming about for, oh, FIVE MONTHS NOW. I think it's actually something you could have done awhile ago; you haven't been eating much in the middle of the night since around 10 weeks or so. Basically you were just getting up to party and check things out, and, hey, I'm not judging, I've enjoyed many a 2 a.m. party myself. I know we could have let you cry it out -- we probably would have had you sleeping through the night some time ago if we had -- and if I had reached the end of my exhausted, frayed rope, I probably would have resorted to that. I'm not some superior mom because I couldn't bring myself to let you cry in your crib. I simply knew my limits, and although you came MIGHTY close to breaking them, you never quite did. So I would get up and pop that pacifier back in your mouth or hold you a little to calm you back down or turn your music thingamajig back on when you would get fussy, and then I'd try to sleep for as long as you'd let me until you needed me to do one or all of those things again. And it suuuuuucked, there's no way around it. I have big plans to record your screams one day, so I can play them back for you when you're 17 and still in bed at 2 p.m., but it never sucked so badly that I couldn't handle it, even if I had to cry and mutter profanities whilst handling it. But, it seems you've pretty much rounded the turn. You sleep (give or take) from about 9 p.m. to 6 a.m. and my former self -- my high school or college self -- would cringe at those hours. SIX O'CLOCK? IN THE MORNING? But after seeing the hours of midnight and then 2 a.m. and then 4 a.m. and then 6 a.m. at various points in the last five months, those hours are golden. Those hours are magical. Those hours are fucking perfect.

In addition to sleeping through the night, you're also becoming sweeter and more enjoyable with every passing day. I sound like a broken record when I say that because in each letter I say something along those lines, but, my god, it's true. You smile at anyone who looks your way, you flirt with anyone in a skirt who looks your way, and you adore all the people you rightfully should (your grandparents, our close friends, your teachers, your dad and me). You just like people and you just like life, and I'm always a little stunned at this because I vividly remember how you liked absolutely nothing those first couple months of your life. Over the weekend we took you to a couple different places -- a BBQ, out to eat more than once -- and several people commented on how happy you are. "What a happy baby!" they'd squeal, as you smirked and laughed at them. And, man, those words were like a gift to me. Not because having a happy baby is easier than having a screaming baby -- although, of course, it is -- but because from the moment you were born, all I wanted was your happiness. Seeing it come alive right in front of me is bliss, sweet boy. Pure bliss.

Some other things you're doing this month: the pacifier staredown (thanks, Jen!), trying to hold your bottle yourself, testing out real food from a real spoon, grabbing everything you can, putting everything you grab right into your mouth including my phone and your dad's beer (parenting win!), losing your hair, chunking up and almost sitting up unassisted (we're just a few weeks away, I think).

So, this move of ours has taken me a little farther from work and has plopped us into a small town. We regularly see goats right across the street from our house, and we had to buy a RIDING MOWER to take care of our expansive yard. Also, a neighbor brought hand-grown tomatoes over last night and said, without sarcasm, "I've been watching you for a week now to see when a good time to come over would be." Um, cool. Also, CREEPY. But for a girl who grew up in San Francisco, this twist of fate shocks no one more than me. If you had told me, even six years ago, that I'd be married to the man I'm married to, raising the boy I'm raising in an old farmhouse on a half acre of land, miles and miles from the closest high rise, I'd have laughed at you and then cried into a pillow. It wouldn't have sounded much fun to me. What about all the adventures I planned to have? What about the city life I assumed I was one day destined for? What about the bugs? I know we serve as a cautionary tale for some -- the college-educated professionals who skipped out on living close to work and close to downtown life in order to give our kid a yard and a rocks-and-dirt, hunting-for-worms childhood. I know it seems like we've sacrificed more than we're getting in return. My 21-year-old self would think the same things. She'd turn her nose up so quickly at this little life of mine, she'd hurt herself. And you may hear your dad and I complain from time to time about the driving and the yard work and, yes, the bugs. KYLE, YOU WILL HEAR MUCH COMPLAINING ABOUT THE BUGS. But know this, now and always: I have never, ever had more fun in my life or had such wild adventures as I'm having now. They don't look anything like I planned, no, but they knock any of my before-you dreams right on their ass. This isn't just the life I want, kiddo, this is the life I need.

The night we moved into our house, you were snoozing in your crib, and your dad and I popped open a bottle of champagne and toasted to our new beginning, our new life in our new home. We stood in the kitchen, boxes all askew, and smiled big and bright at one another. It's been a helluva year so far, and 2009 will easily go down as the craziest, most insane, hardest, most glorious year of our lives. The year we hoped maybe, possibly for a healthy baby and instead were handed the world.

I love you so much, buddy,

Your Mama

Comments

[Camels & Chocolate]

I've never really wanted kids (though I love them and looking at pictures of other people's), but damn, if this isn't enough to make me reconsider. You're such a talented writer, Jen!

[Jess]

This is so amazingly perfect. I'm so happy for you. And Kyle just keeps on getting cuter. It seems impossible, but it's true.

[auntie]

i love what you said here about your adventures now being more than you'd ever hoped for (or something more profound than that, i'm sure). it's funny how sometimes we find ourselves being the happiest and most content when we're the furthest(farthest?)away from were we thought we were headed.

[la petite belle]

this is soooo sweet!!

[barbetti]

You're so much more eloquent than I could dream of being. This is beautiful.

And hey, I totally hear you on the moving with an infant. Because moving from Vermont to Idaho was an experience in and of itself.

[Crystal]

My daughter is 11 months and still wakes at least 3 times in the middle of the night. We must not know what we're doing sleep wise because my older 2 kids never slept through until around age 2. I'm a little jealous of those who get a full night's sleep.

[She Likes Purple]

Crystal, I'm convinced all babies are different. What works for one just wouldn't/won't work for another. We try our very best to put Kyle down while he's still awake. Sometimes that means he screams for a good, solid half-hour, but we're constantly in there, putting the pacifier back in, soothing him, rubbing his head. Sometimes he jabbers a little to his sound machine and falls fast asleep. HIT OR MISS. But we do *try* to make sure he doesn't fall asleep in our arms.

He would do the mid-night wake-up for months without needing a bottle, and we'd just lather/rinse/repeat with the soothing/pacifier reinsertion/etc but we'd TRY not to pick him up. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Sometimes he did need a bottle, and we'd give it to him.

I will say that his sound machine (which is just a cheap plastic star from Target that plays music and shines bright, colorful lights onto his crib) is his most favorite thing and without it (and without the pacifier) he'd never fall asleep. We found a couple tricks that worked for us, thank goodness, but I know they wouldn't work for everyone.

[Christina]

Oh, it's dusty in here! Sniff...

Amyway... I hear you so clearly. Left the city, married and the kid. Not on the radar just a few short (okay, longer for me) years ago and now look. It's nothing I was looking for and everything I've always wanted!

Mike and I have an agreement. As soon as the kid(s) are in college we are going into a downtown condo. If said kids move away, too bad. Get a hotel room for Christmas- I GAVE UP MY DREAMS FOR YOU! (but, we'll pay for your room.)

[She Likes Purple]

Christina, I hear ya! Mike and I talk all the time about leaving Texas at some point. I think it really depends on what kind of kid we have. Some kids are just better suited for a mid-life move than others. We'll see.

Regardless, we're going to travel as much as we possibly can. I have a looooong must-visit list, and even if those trips don't happen for years, I'm determined to eventually make them happen!

[bessie.viola]

Oh, this is beyond sweet... that last sentence just got me.

Kudos to you for making the sleep thing work. We basically did the same program with our daughter, Madeline - the "whatever works for you is what we're doing program" - and though it took a long time, it's paid off in spades. She sleeps easily and happily now.

Enjoy that gorgeous baby!

[Kim]

I know easier said than done, but TRY not to stress about the sleep thing. Just know that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. We had to take it night by night til he was about 11 mts.. he'd go a month of PERFECT non interrupted sleep, then BLAM, a month of just not knowing what the hell to expect.
Now he's 15 almost 16 months and life is good - though this comment can ensure all hell will break loose soon.. thus why we NEVER EVER talk of sleep, for fear of the Jinx.