Today you are three months old! And the is the first month I'm actually both organized and sane enough to write your monthly letter, a la Dooce. One day your mom is really going to get savvy and remember how to post some damn pictures to go along with these posts, because you are for sure the very cutest baby on the block, not to mention the whole world.
This past month has been amazing. Your parents finally figured out that you had reflux, and were not just colicky. After a panicked Sunday morning phone call to the doctor, we got you on some meds and your adorable sunny personality was finally able to emerge. Although you'd been smiling before, this month you have been doing the full-body wiggly smiles, the ones where your whole face lights up and your little body wriggles from the joy of seeing my face, or your dad's face, or the lights on your swing (which you couldn't get enough of at the beginning of the month,, but now sadly have declared hopelessly passe). You could hold your head up from birth, but now you're coordinated enough to keep it level with your body when we pull you to sitting, and that's your very favorite thing to do these days (aside from gorging on the boob). You love "sitting like a big boy," and we'll ignore the fact that big boys don't routinely hork up their stomach contents all over their shirts. After all, you're still just a little tyke.
If we keep you in your car seat, you'll sleep 6 hours at night. But one day you're going to be too big for that seat, and we know we have to start getting you used to your crib at some point. But you're such a sensitive little guy, and you're having a real hard time going to sleep these days. We're getting into a bedtime ritual of a bath with Dad, a story, some nursing, and then I sway you back and forth to sleep for anywhere from 10-40 minutes. You're such a little guy (barely 11 pounds) that this is doable for now, but kiddo, I don't think I'll be able to do it when you're a year. So we're looking at some rocky nights ahead while we get you used to sleeping in your own bed.
You're waking up in the sweetest mood these days--or rather, you wake up screaming like a demented banshee until you get your breakfast, and then you are the flirtiest baby in the world. You smile and babble like nothing could ever be better than hanging out in bed with your mom and dad, and I've got to admit, we're pretty much right there with you on that point. Sam, it's impossible to describe how much we love you. You've made us better people. We're much less selfish than we used to be, and our capacity for love and patience has increased far beyond what I ever thought possible. Sadly, my capacity for sleep deprivation has not increased, and there have been a couple dark days when I get less than 5 hours total. But I'm learning that the world will not fall apart if we just lounge in bed together until noon on those days, getting more sleep whenever we can find it. And if you won't cooperate, I'm finally learning that I can call in the relief pitcher. It doesn't make me a bad mom to need a little help now and then.
Next month you're going up to Pennsylvania to meet your grandpa's family. You look just like your dad, but I can tell already that a lot of your personality comes from this branch of the family, so I'm very excited for you to meet all these aunts and uncles and cousins, and also for you to see your great-grandfather again. I'm already trolling the stores looking for just the right outfit to show off your amazing good looks. You're a little on the small side, but the cloth diapers really bulk up your bottom, so I think you should be fitting into 3-6 month clothes by that time. It's very tempting to buy you every cute outfit I can find, but I need to exercise some restraint. There's a limit to how many outfits you can wear in one day.
Darling boy, I can't believe it's been 3 months already. You and I are so much more comfortable with each other than we were even just a month ago. You are my greatest joy, and every day brings something new. You won't possibly understand how wonderful and challenging parenthood is until you have kids of your own. But when you go away to college, I'll call you up every morning at 5 am and scream "I'M HUNGRY I'M HUNGRY I'M SO HUNGRY I'M GOING TO DIE FEED ME NOW NOW NOW!!" That will give you some sense of this crazy ride.