You startle so much in your sleep, sweet boy. I wonder why. I wonder what it is going on behind those drooped lids that makes you jerk and scowl, even in the deepest of sleeps. I want to make it go away, and to never come back to you again. But that's just one of those mother's wishes for her child... Something that will never come true, given the intangible nature of dreams. Dreamcatchers are pretty and all, but if nightmares were something that could be easily captured before sinking into an innocent mind then I would probably have had more frequent good nights of sleep myself.
Still. It makes me wonder - to what lengths would I go to make whatever you wanted become a reality?
Quick answer: I don't know.
I'm sorry, Monster, but I have to leave you with the quick answer for now; a better answer would probably take much more thought and several more years of getting used to this whole parenting thing.
I realized tonight, looking down at you in the bathtub, just how big you're getting. You're going to be one tall boy, I can already tell. I'm not sure how "tall" you are right the moment, but I'd guess around 23 or 24 inches - you were 19 inches when you were born. Growing like a sprout, that's for sure.
No matter how small or big you are, though, it seems you're already more mature than I am. When I get upset and frustrated with you, you usually ignore me. Tonight though, I was bitching and getting mad, and you just stared up at me and smiled. Seeing those lips curl and widen stopped me mid-sentence, and I couldn't help but smile right back down at you.
See? Sometimes Mommy needs a paci too. Just not like the ones you're used to.
You just startled at another yawn. I hope this letter makes sense, since exhaustion seems to be getting the better of me. Bedtime after I wrap this up, and it'll be just you and me, warm and cozy and drowning in each other's sweet scents.
Here's to sweeter dreams.
Love, Mommy.
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