You...

Isaiah... 

You've been sticking your entire hand in your mouth for several weeks now.  Whenever you want to eat or need some comfort, and you don't have a boob or pacifier nearby, you put that hand right in there.  You're also slobbering a lot, so we have a suspicion that you might be teething. 

In the middle of one of our nights, you started to discover your fingers too.  Now you just lie or sit there playing with your fingers in front of your face.  I've been trying to get you to grab toys, and now you're starting to be interested in that too. 

My favorite thing you're doing right now?  You've started laughing.  I was waiting & waiting for this moment, and it has come.  While you're lying down or sitting in front of me, I talk to you & play with your feetsies & put your hands together for you, and you just giggle & giggle. 

Your giggles warm my heart. 

You are also talking a lot more than a few days ago.  I've tried to get a video of these giggles & words, but you stop as soon as you see the camera.  I need to figure out how to give you all of that attention & film you at the same time. 

Sometimes I think you're already trying to crawl.  When you're on your belly, you kick & kick your legs.  You can scoot yourself almost all the way across the bed. 

Oh, I also love that there are some moments where nothing will quiet your cries but a song from your mommy.  I used to sing to you a lot when you were smaller, but I couldn't tell whether you liked it or not.  Now, I can definitely tell it's your favorite sound. 

The other day we were driving home, and you were sleepy, but the car ride wasn't putting you to sleep like it usually does.  You started crying.  I tried to go faster because you like that, and then I put your pacifier back in your mouth.  But nothing would work.  I started singing this song to you, and you stopped crying almost immediately.  I sang it a few times and then stopped to see if maybe it was something else that stopped your cries.  You started again & only stopped when I started singing agan. 

It is amazing to know that my voice calms you. 

Song for Isaiah

I've been sortof sad lately for reasons I probably won't ever discuss here.  Just because I think some things are better left... unreported.  Of course the implications of my moderate sadness for this blog are that I haven't felt like writing much about anything. 

But today I decided that I missed listening to music.  So I fired up the ole Pandora & listened away, singing to Isaiah & working.  It was lovely.  And I think my little one enjoyed my singing to him, even though when I finally thought to video tape it, he wasn't too happy.

This song, Run by Snow Patrol, came on, and although I've listened to it many times before, it now has a new meaning for me.  Most of it isn't applicable, but these lyrics made me imagine the day that Isaiah moves away from home...

I'll sing it one last time for you

Then we really have to go

You've been the only thing that's right

In all I've done

Light up, light up

As if you have a choice

Even if you cannot hear my voice

I'll be right beside you dear

To think I might not see those eyes

Makes it so hard not to cry

And as we say our long goodbyes

I nearly do

That will be a sad day.  Good thing I have a few years before I actually have to deal with it. 

I love you son.

I Love You

Your curly soft black hair.  Your big ears.  Your big beautiful lips.  Your tiny fingernails that only stay still during brief moments of sleep.  Your big brown wandering eyes.  Your squeaks of discomfort or wonder or amazement.  Even when those squeaks turn into screams.  Your soft soft skin. 

The way you smile as you adjust yourself during a nap.  The way when you're done eating that you always pull away with a little drop of milk on your chin, lie back & close your eyes in satisfaction.  The way your eyebrows raise just like your daddy's.  The way you squeeze your fists close to your head while sleeping.  The way you throw them in the air if you are awakened.   The way you violently fight your gas.  The way you desperately need something to suck on when you're fighting. 

The way you immediately calm when you’re in your father’s arms. 

The way just lying their sleeping can distract me from everything.  I am fascinated by your existence.

I love you Isaiah.

Dear Isaiah

Hello son. 

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write to you.  You've been hanging out inside of me for six months now.  You're six months alive!  I can't say six months old yet because that's the official way to reference your age once you're out in the world. 

I didn't write to you six months ago because I didn't know you were a boy yet.  And I didn't write to you one month ago when I found out you were a boy because I didn't know your name yet.  For some inexplicable reason, I didn't want to officially write you a letter until I knew your name. 

Isaiah. 

I also didn't write you sooner because I didn't really know if you would ever care to see a letter from me. 

When I imagined having a little girl, I knew she would care one day.  I found letters my dad wrote to me, and it meant the world to me.  They were mispelled & grammatically incorrect, but they were the most beautiful things I had ever read. 

I didn't know if such a strong man would ever care to read what his mom was thinking when he was little.  

But I decided that if you do care one day, if you ever need to know how much your mother loves you, if for some reason written words are more meaningful than my actions & the love in my eyes, then I better start writing. 

So that you always know that my heart is yours.  That I would give the world to you if I could.  That I will try my hardest to give you all of it that I can.  And then I will teach you how to get the rest. 

Isaiah, I love you.