Letter To My Son

My dear, sweet, small son,

Tomorrow you will be 3 months old! While on one hand it seems like you've been here forever, it also seems like just yesterday when I saw two pink lines on the pregnancy test.

Already you have doubled your birthweight, can hold objects, laugh and smile, and now you can start to pick your head up during "tummy time." These precious days pass so quickly!

I've taken a hundred photographs to remember the way you look.

I've shot hours of video footage to remember how you move and the way you sound.

But how can I bottle up the way I feel when I hold you close, rocking and singing your favorite lullabies?

How can I capture the fragrance of your skin and hair after your evening baths?

Is there a way to store the melting of my heart when you look up at me and smile?

Can I record the joy of cuddling a warm baby?

One day, you won't want to be held and rocked.

One day, you will be too big for your baby tub and you'll be taking showers.

One day, my kisses will embarrass you, and you won't like being called "Sweetie Pie Punkin' Bug."

I'd better enjoy these moments while I can, because one day you'll be all grown up and won't need your Mommy anymore.

But for now, I get to hold you, rock you, feed you, bathe you, giggle and smile at you, make funny faces at you, and laugh with you.

I can smother you in kisses and make silly baby sounds at you.

I love you, my son. More than you'll ever know.