A love letter.

Dear Baby O:

Every night, when you’re asleep, I tiptoe into your room to turn down the music on the classical station.

And every time, on my way out of the room, I stop at your crib. And look at you.

And I marvel.

You’re getting SO big. Your face has lost its baby roundness.

And always, I find you asleep on your belly, your arms thrown out in slumber, your hand always touching your beloved bear blanket.

I can’t believe how fast the past year has gone.

Scratch that – 13 months. Because, tomorrow you’ll be 13 months old. And though I don’t actually COUNT in months anymore, I keep track of them.

You’re turning into such a character. A chatterbox; you are talking from the very moment you wake up until you go to sleep. Your language is all your own; it has got its own cadence and words. I wish I understood it more so we could really TALK. But that’s coming, right?

And oh GOODNESS the adventures you go on in our house. Like the other night, where in 30 seconds flat you had climbed all 13 stairs and made your way into the bathroom where you tried to climb into the tub. Or when you crawled behind the stereo speakers and played peek-a-boo with me (where all I could do was hope that you wouldn’t notice the wires coming from the back).

And though nowadays you prefer to be down, and exploring, you don’t mind being held so I can give you kisses. In fact, you giggle and smile when I make that loud smacking kiss noise against your cheek. And then you lean in for more.

I LIVE to see you. My two favorite parts of the day? To see you first thing in the morning, and when I come pick you up from school.

Each time, you give me a big smile and begin chattering. It’s like you’re as happy to see me as I am you.

I love you SO much. And I wish I had the words to tell you just how happy you make me. How fortunate I feel to have you in my life and be your mom.