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Tuesday, June 30, 2009

3 months

27 June 2009

Dear Asa,

This month you have become a baby. My little newborn, with his unfocused eyes and tightly clenched fists, is gone. And in his place is this wonderful, chubby baby. Delicious rolls of fat have replaced your skinny thighs, and the roundness of your belly is very Buddha-esq. I delight in your bigness, your new you-ness. I look at you now, laying on your tummy, head held high, and you're so much more substantial. So much more aware and in charge. I didn't really notice it until it was gone, but a newborn baby is so very delicate, so fragile and small. Curled up and tucked in, they peek at the word from their mother's arms. But here beside me is a baby. You survey the entire room and lock onto something you like - usually something bright and flashy. You smile at me in the morning, and you laugh when I say "Hey!" in a deep, funny voice. You get frustrated when you try to roll over (you're almost there!) and you get bored when left too long with the same view. You are taking in everything in the whole, wide world, seeing it all for the very first time.

Your hands seem to be your favorite toy lately. In fact, they bring you great joy. You can go for quite some time on your own, perfectly entertained by your fingers. You chew and gnaw on them, alternating left and right, pushing them back as far as your gag reflex will allow (and sometimes farther) then pull them out of your mouth, strings of drool dripping, and eye them suspiciously. You check them out, as if to make sure these wonderful things are really truly yours, then, with utter delight, shove them back into your open mouth. More often than not the front of your shirts are completely soaked, one after the other we change you all day long. But the joy you have found is totally worth the extra laundry. Drool on little boy.

Something else comes with being such a big baby now - sleeping through the night. Now this is definitely something to celebrate! The first 8 weeks felt so erratic, with no up or down, no schedule, no real pattern. And then around 10 weeks this started to change. I noticed that you acted sleepy around the same time every morning, and you wanted to eat around the same time every night. And like magic, it began. You're up for the day around 7:30, eat a little brekky and it's time to play. You're all tuckered out by 9:30 when you sleep for about an hour. The day continues with a sort of two hours awake one hour sleeping pattern. No big sleeps during the day for you. It's almost like you're afraid you'll miss something, like you're worried something fantastic may go down when you close your eyes. So you cat nap through the day, short and frequent. And by 10pm you are ready to have a good long eat, and get swaddled up for the first long sleep of the night. On a good night you'll stay asleep until 4 or 5, eat, then go back to sleep until 7 or 8. This schedule business is a beautiful thing. So is five to seven hours of uninterrupted sleep!

You have also become quite the little traveler my love, and I am so proud of us all - you, your dad and I - for doing so well! You've stayed in hotel rooms and friend's houses, flown on planes and taken long car rides. You've been to Pennsylvania, New Jersey and California. Every time we head out I'm more confident, every time a little more sure of myself. It's such a wonderful thing to realize that my life is still what I want it to be - No, it's even better. Your father and I still live our lives the way we always have, flying or driving to shows, visiting friends, enjoying company, dinners out and glasses of wine. And now you're with us, you join the party. We're a "table for three", an unstoppable trio, a gang of our own. We are a family. We will have grand adventures, now with you by our side. I wouldn't have it any other way.


Saturday, June 13, 2009

Asa's grandfather

Here's of video of my father, Papa John, from last summer. I have so many childhood memories that look just like this - summer time at a lake, river or quarry, my dad climbing up something, preparing to jump off. Seriously. Bridges, cliffs and, as seen here, trees.

Papa John from lichen richardson on Vimeo.

How many 67 year old men do you know that can do that?

Sunday, June 7, 2009

I wonder if I'll take pictures of anything else ever again

Now that Asa is here he is the only thing in my camera's viewfinder. I can't help it, it just happens. Every time I pick up the camera it turns to him. Every moment seems like it's just begging to be captured. Every day something new to record....

His first night in the bassinet. The very same bassinet that I slept in, one that's been in the family four generations now (see Sheryl!).

Steve surveys the scene

Being so big is tiring business

So big! Lifting that head all the time now (and only occasionally slamming that face back into the ground. Ouch.)

A lovely sweater to match the eyes (thanks Cynthia!)

Laughing and laughing. This is my absolute favorite thing in the whole wide world. That little sound gets me every time. Tiny chuckles spilling out of this happy little boy. Perfection.



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