Dear Callum,

You’ve now completed your second month with us, and already you’re becoming less like an amorphous blob and more like an actual person.  You’ve become a smile master, especially for your brothers.  Just this morning, Miles was talking to you before school, and he got so excited because of the big smiles you gave him.

You have your grumpy moments, but mostly you’re a pretty chill guy.  You, like most babies, are a morning person so far.  You will usually sit quietly and happily in your seat while your dad and I scramble around to get your big brothers ready for school in the morning.  You don’t like to nap anywhere but your car seat, which is okay for the time being, but you’ll need to learn to nap elsewhere before you outgrow it.

We faced your two biggest struggles so far:  your first cold and your first immunizations.  They were both kind of awful, though the cold was worse.  We’re still dealing with the dregs of it, in fact.  If you had told me twenty years ago that I would be up at 5 a.m. sucking snot out of a baby’s head with a crazy tube contraption, I don’t know if I would have believed it.  Overall you’ve been a good sleeper, though this cold has not been great for your sleep patterns.  The shots weren’t so bad during the actual injections—you cried for a moment and then calmed down.  But I could tell you felt crummy, because the whole rest of the day you spent either sleeping or crying.  Fortunately you seem to have recovered from that, and I’m glad you’re on your way to being a well-vaccinated individual.

We went to visit Mubby and Skittergramps, which was your first road trip.  I don’t know if you had fun or not, but I did.  It was good to see them and spend some time with Joe and Suzy as well.  This weekend we have a trip coming up, and we’ll see Nana and Papa and other family members.  It will mean your first hotel stay, which is an important milestone in any baby’s life, at least any baby who lives with me.

I suppose it happens with all babies who are later in birth order, but we’ve been dragging you around to all kinds of things.  This morning you went to Tobin’s school to watch his music program.  Later you went to pick up Miles and then to his piano lesson, after which we went out for ice cream.  I’m sorry you didn’t get any.  Maybe you can have a taste before the summer is over.  Through all of it, you were very calm, sleeping peacefully or just watching the action.  As long as you have a full tummy and are well-burped, you seem happy to be along for the ride.  I hope that pattern continues, because you have a lot of rides ahead of you.

Photo by Gary Clarke

I was chatting with another mom of three at Tobin’s school, and we were talking about the sweetness that comes with knowing a particular baby is your last baby.  I admitted to her that I haven’t been able to bring myself to throw away my positive pregnancy test, since I know it’s the last one I’ll ever have (unless something truly unexpected happens).  She said she felt the same way and kept her last one, too.  That made me feel slightly less crazy.

It’s just that babies don’t last, you know?  I’ll never have my own sweet little two-month-old again.  I’m probably going to say this every month of your life.  I’m often tired and sometimes frustrated, not necessarily with you but with the strain that comes with being a stay-at-home parent to three kids.  This summer may be a challenge.  But you’re growing so fast, and you’ve already changed from the little squirt we brought home from the hospital.  You can focus your eyes and chew your fingers with your little gummy jaws.  You recognize familiar faces and have really loud toots.  I don’t even really mind waking up in the night to feed you, because that’s a special thing that only I can do.  When you cozy your little head up to me, it makes me so happy you joined us.

Photo by Denny

Love,

Mommy