First, I am going to acknowledge that this is one day late. That's pretty good for me these days. Since you made your debut on June 2nd, I am typically one, two, or more days late at returning phone calls, responding to emails, and, well...taking a shower. I'm not complaining, I am just letting you know that my day is filled with loving you, trying to breastfeed you, cuddle you, calm you down when you are upset, changing your diapers (and acting quickly to avoid the inevitable golden shower), and just staring into your beautiful eyes. It doesn't sound like that would take up the majority of the day, but it does. And I love every minute of it. Well, except for the diapers. And I wouldn't mind a few more hours of sleep.
Speaking of sleeping, that is one of my favorite things to do with you. We've gotten into the habit of falling asleep together around 3pm every day. You, me, and Echo. I'll sit up on the couch, prop my feet up on the coffee table, lay you down on my chest and Echo cuddles up behind us. There is a whole bunch of love in that one corner of the couch.
And, you suck. You love the pacifier as do your father and I. It has saved us many times when we weren't quite sure why you were crying. The pacifier is one of your best friends. We've made an expert decision that the reason for your crying is that you probably have gas. And I must say that we've grown accustomed to the very loud, adult-sounding farts that escape your rear end several times a day. I had no idea that such a loud noise could come out of such a sweet and small little boy. Like father, like son, I guess.
Each day means more and more awake time for you. And for me. When your Grandma and Grandpa Lang (or Nana and Papa, as they requested) were in town for your birth, they weren't sure that you had eyeballs because each time that they came to the hospital to see you, you were sleeping. When they see you next, they will be as mesmerized as I am with your beautiful deep blue eyes.
You smile in your sleep and I often pretend that it's because you are thinking about how much fun we have together. But in reality, you probably just passed gas. And I'm OK with that. If you keep smiling, so will I.
Thanks for the most special 15 days of my life. I know it'll only get better and more fun from here.
Mom (wow - - it's strange to refer to myself that way)