Happy 4 months! I can't decide if I feel more..."I can't believe it's only been 4 months!" or more like, "I can't believe it's already been 4 months!"
You technically are not a newborn anymore, but there's still so much newness. Yet there's something worn-in and familiar about you. Like slipping on that one pair of jeans every time, even though I probably own ten. You just fit right and feel good.
And thanks for being such a great confidence booster. I've never had someone so eager to listen to me talk and sing and ramble on about the 7.3 million thoughts that float through my head daily. Sometimes you just gaze at me with a sheepish little grin on your face and I think we both could sit like that forever.
Your vocal range has doubled. Along with the frequency of how often you test it out. And your movements are much more deliberate. Your little fingers are on the prowl; caressing your squeaky pig toy, trying to pick the stripes off our sheets, and pluck the flowers from the pillow.
And you love swimming. Yes, in the water. But also on the bed, the couch, your swing, and in our arms. Not sure if your plan is to become an Olympic swimmer or not, but you've got your frog and scissor kick down pat. We do need to work on your arm form though. You're a little flail-y.
Speaking of flailing. I thought I could balance you on one knee and a bowl of pasta on the other. I had already consumed a few bites, proud of myself for such a smooth system I created. Then with no warning you decide to practice your jazz hands and the bowl of pasta went flying. And since I've been saying, "I'll vacuum tomorrow..." for a week now, my lunch instantly grew a coat of black dog hair. Lucy, you laughed. You laughed AND snorted. You make life so much better.
You are funny, and happy, and full of joy. You're a 16 pound sack of sweet goodness. You're my sugar lump. I will try not to eat you.
Love,
Mama
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