3 months

Dear Emerson,

It's funny, I still don't call you Emerson to your face. You go by so many nicknames at home, with the most predominant one as "Monster." We started calling you Monster when you were first born because you were just so itty bitty, and we love our irony. And now "Monster" has evolved into many new affectionate nicknames including Monstress, Monsterlicious, Monsterific and Monster Mash.

Look at that belly...she works out.

I NEED a real camera! Having so many blurry pictures of you in unacceptable!

Anyway, kiddo, you are 3 months old!!! The time flies so quickly because every day with you is a new adventure. In fact, you've changed so much in the last 10 days I feel like I'm getting whiplash! You have become a completely different baby. I guess I know why they call the first 3 months of life "the 4th trimester." Gone is the fussy particular newborn we've loved these last few months. She has been replaced with the most curious, wide-eyed, smiley, active and alert baby this side of the Mississipp'!

It is SO FUN to watch you discover and explore new things. These past 2 weeks, you've started "talking" and "sitting up" like a big girl. Dear Lord, please help Jon if he has to live in a household with not one but two motormouths. Don't fret, we'll buy daddy some earplugs. You have found your voice and you LOVE it! Case in point:


You are obviously very advanced for your mere 13 weeks because you've discovered you own dialect, with vocab such as "Ahgoo" and "Oooeeuuu." And several times now, when someone has said "Hi" to you, I swear to Bob you said "Hi" back. I have witnesses - you are a genius.

Your best friends are still Duckie, Puppy, and the newest addition to the Wubbanub family, Horsey. Except now you use them not just for a pacifier, but you just love to gnaw on their arms and legs. Ahhh, carnivorism... so adorable.

 

So Mommy just has to brag a little bit here... you are 3 months old, and you have never had one drop of formula. I was very intimated about breastfeeding before you arrived, but it came so naturally to both of us. I am very proud of myself and of you and am so glad we've stuck with it. I know it is the best thing for you, and this is my little way of feeling like a good mom because I am physically able and willing to do it. Sure, it would be more convenient if anyone could give you a bottle at any time, but providing for you is my number one priority. Just remember this when some loser with frosted tips offers you a beer at a college party - remember that mommy went without wine for over a year so you could have a higher IQ. It's all about sacrifice, princess.

You are doing SO good at the babysitter's. I was worried that you'd be miserable without your mommy (and vice versa) but instead I get happy updates and pictures of you all day long. I think it's because you have a crush on Colin. (I'm glad you like older men...infant boys are sooo immature; however, you're not dating till you're 30, so it's a moot point).

You're starting to look more and more grown up, and you definitely are your father's daughter. You look just like him. But sometimes when you stare up at me with your big beautiful eyes, I see a little mommy in you, and it melts my heart.

You also LOVE being outside. It's been uncharacteristically warm here in Ohio this winter, and it was 77 degrees last night! We took you on a long walk in our neighborhood, and you were in baby-staring heaven. You charmed everyone who peeked in your car seat, and I feel like we should have gotten free fro-yo because of your cuteness. (Biased much?? No way). Oh yes, there's a fro-yo place in our neighborhood now.... we will be there 3 times a week this summer. My favorite thing to do is to sit with you on our porch swing and gently rock back and forth. You just stare off into space, and give me the occasional coo, but I can't recall ever feeling so content as I am in those moments with you.

Every single day with you gets better, and though I want you to be a baby forever, watching you grow makes me so proud to be your mom.

Love,

Me