Dear Simon at 5 months

Dear Simon at 5 months,

I meant to do this earlier. I sat there, on November 13th, while you slept on your little cosleeper in the middle of our big bed, staring at the screen, thinking about a future version of yourself reading the blog I was about to write. (No pressure, though!) An electronic record seemed too cheap, I couldn't imagine that I could type anything that would approximate how I was feeling about you and about your father, that could describe how fascinating I found your every sigh and hiccup. I gave up after about 3 sentences (when you awoke). This blog has always been about me and a way for me to think about things and share them with the people I love, so it seems a little strange to record your life here. I couldn't begin, on November 13th, or on December, or January 13th, to talk intelligently about how it felt to become a mother, to watch Z become a father, to watch as you showed us little glimpses of who you are.

This month, as you nap away. I feel totally ready. You are this incredible person, and you now have anecdotes. (A newborn's anecdotes, let's face it, are pretty dull.) I know more about who you are. You are intensely interested in everything around you, especially living things. (Luckily, people find you intensely interesting too. I have to add an extra 10 minutes to my grocery store trips to account for strangers who want to talk to you and admire you.)

You are becoming more physically capable every day. You can roll over from front to back and back to front, and you can finally hold onto your feet these days (though you can't get them to your mouth). You can wiggle and lurch your way in a circle, and get two or three feet from where we put you (although you don't have a lot of directional control at this point). Every day your father or I sees the potential for crawling. You are socially aware; helping us to change your clothes and watching us when we talk to you. You spend time on your own with your toys on the floor, and enjoy "helping" me cook from the comfort of your ergo. You recently became interested in reading board books, and you watch your father and I when we sign to you. (Who am I kidding? You are interested in EVERYTHING.

Here is the story I really want to tell that sums up your life right now:

Last Saturday, I made a fart noise at you and you laughed. I was so delighted. (The first time I heard you really laugh (you frequently chuckle one or two syllables at a time) I tickled your belly with my nose (this still works)about a month ago. But on Saturday, I made a noise (and a face) and you cracked up! I called your papa in to see. He believes fart noises are universally funny, and was unsurprised (bullshit) but I wondered what about this sound was funny for you. The next day, it no longer worked. (You smiled for the sound, but didn't laugh.) by the end of the day, you would spit and I would reflexively make a fart noise for you. I soon realized that I had accidentally reinforced spitting and brought this up with Z. I thought I should stop, but he said "What's the harm, really?" compared to the powerful experience of you being able to order up a fart noise when ever you want one. (COMMUNICATION!)

Then, your nanny, JB was here on Monday and saw you spit this way. He apologized to Z and took responsibility. He explained that when you are sad, he beatboxes for you! So, you were laughing at me (perhaps) because I don't usually beatbox, JB does! And you were ordering up more! So, now YOU have basically trained your caregivers to beatbox to you. It clearly gives you joy to make this spitting sound (which started as aspirated drool on Sunday, and is already a vibrating lip "motor boat" action) and get the people you love to beatbox for you. (I'm not Rahzel, or anything, but I do my best.)

So, that's where we are 5 months into this adventure, my little darling.

Until next month!
-Mama