Dear Zac,
Technically, it should be four-and-a-half months of you but really, nobody cares about the technicalities, pish. Well, you see, I was late by a week in taking the pictures and then another week went by before I remembered that I should have written this to you by now. If I get more sleep, I may have a better memory. Just sayin’.
The thing is, mama went back to work almost three weeks ago and it’s been challenging, adapting to being back in the office again. And as any working mother will know, one of the hardest things we can do is to leave our babies behind when we go.
I have missed you and the lazy days that we have spent together. Those hazy mornings when we nap together, those baby-wearing moments when our hearts beat close together as I took you out with me because you wouldn’t nap, the smiles and coos that make my heart sing. You don’t know how hard it is for me to peel myself away from you in the mornings now. And I guess you miss me too, because on the night of my first day back at work, you fussed and fussed a gazillion times. I will take that as a I MISS YOU MAMA thing.
Every day, I look at you and thank god that you are here and you are ours. Maybe it’s because we are second-time parents and we know what to expect, or maybe it’s because you are genuinely an easier baby to handle (and your brother was not even a difficult baby then) – but life with you is so, well, easy. It’s not tough to read your needs and give you what you want, be it to nap you or to feed you. You go to bed quite easily at night and even though you do wake up often enough to make me feel like death on some days, I never have to stay awake for too long to put you back to sleep again.
You, my little squish, are a darling. You are generally a happy chappy whom everyone adores. You are easy to please and a lively little song or a cheerful grin will make you break out into a gummy smile. Most of the time, you don’t complain or cry, and you only do either of these when you are tired or in the car seat.
I know it’s not diplomatic to compare but I think you will be a more reserved fellow than your brother is. At this age, he was already babbling a mile a minute from the moment he woke up. Put him down on any surface, say a few words to him and he would “talk” back to you. (He’s still like this today, at 2.5-years-old. He loves to talk to you these days.)
You, on other hand, have not been as chatty. You also have not bestowed your laughter upon us as freely. It’s almost as if you haven’t really learnt how to laugh! You’d sort of giggle a little but it never progresses to a full-on laugh that comes right from the belly. So when the giggle happens, I feel like SUPER MUM WHO MADE HER BABY LAUGH.
What you lack verbally, you make up for it in your physical movements. Boy, are you fab at kicking! I love to put you in the bouncer and see you kick vigorously, it’s really adorable. You are almost always moving, and I predict that you will be a very physical little boy.
Speaking of which, I got woken up by you at 2:30am one morning in a hilarious fashion. You were lying next to me on the bed and you were making “eh eh eh” noises (possibly translated as: I MUST I MUST I MUST) while kicking your legs in the swaddle. I sat up, checked the clock and stared at you as you continued your antics. Suddenly, you flipped onto your stomach and I realised, AH THAT’S WHY.
Alas! It was a one-way ticket to Bellyhood and you simply could not flip back. There were several more “eh eh eh” moments (possibly translated as: HELP ME NAO, MOTHER) before I, laughing, decided to lend you a helping hand. I would have given you a standing ovation for that performance – your FIRST FLIP! – except it was at 2 freaking am in the morning.
Also, nobody ever saw you flip again. And therefore, I am so glad you saved your one-off performance for mama.
Oh bubba! Stay little for as long as you can, okay?
Happy four months and we love you like crazy.
Love you to the moon and back,
Mama
Yannisms 