Pretty Much Where We Are Now

Dear Cletus,

First of all, I know it's been a while. I should have written sooner. But it's been a bit busy over the last few months - who knew that having an infant would create a black whole into which all of my free time would be sucked? I would worry more about you as an adult feeling upset over the 4-month gap in between these posts, but two things stop me: 1. Let's be honest, you probably won't read these ever; and 2. Even if you wanted to, you'd be too busy hanging out in your own personal holodeck to actually do it (hopefully, someone will have invented holodecks by the time you are an adult - otherwise, you'll turn into someone similar to me, who is bitter over the fact that hoverboards are as-yet uninvented).

So let's recap the past few months:

October - spent most of the month hanging out with you at home, but then...major milestone: I went back to work. It was something I agonized over, Cletus. Because I heard from so many people that it would be the hardest thing for me to do. I was told that I would cry all the way to work for the first week, and that my only real moments of joy would be those before 8 AM and after 5 PM, when I was home with you. You're my first kid, so I had no reason not to believe that this would be accurate, so I was obviously nervous. However, it ended up being the easiest transition. I loved going back to work. It helps that I like my job and enjoy my coworkers. But also - and I can't place too much emphasis on this - I was going crazy sitting at home with you. You're the love of my life, but at 4 months old, you were still struggling not to puke after a bottle - you couldn't offer much in the way of intellectual stimulation.

Anyhoo, off to work I went, and off to daycare you went. Two transitions into the outside world that both seemed to go pretty smoothly. From what I hear from your daycare provider, all the other kids refer to you as "their baby" and keep you well-stocked with toys all day. I've pretty much given up on you not growing up spoiled.

November - Thanksgiving was nice, but I ended up getting sick with a cold. Here's the dark secret nobody tells you about having kids, Cletus: when you have a baby, it has no immune system and has to develop one the hard way - by being exposed to all the bugs that are out there. You are no different, so the minute I put you in daycare, you started bringing home all sorts of germs and viruses. You seem to deal pretty well with the constant runny nose. I wish I could say the same for me; before this winter, I had a record of only getting sick about once a year, and then I'd have a bad cold for a week or so before successfully battling it off with Sudafed and Emergen-C. Now, I have been sick 5 - count 'em, FIVE - times since Thanksgiving.

I understand that the main benefit of breastmilk is that the mother passes along her antibodies to her child. Given that I have spent most of this winter on some type of flu medication, I think we will both agree that it's for the best that you are on formula.

December - Your first Christmas! You had a great time, although, since you were only 6 months old, you had no idea what was going on. Also, I got sick on Christmas day with - you guessed it - another cold.  But aside from that, it was a great holiday. You got to meet your aunt and uncle who were visiting from Alabama, and everyone in general had a great time giving you presents and letting you chew on wrapping paper.

January - Happy New Year, Cletus. Your dad and I have discovered that staying up until midnight isn't as much fun when we realize that no matter what, you will be waking up at 5:30 or so, ready to play. But stay up we did, and even with the knowledge that you wouldn't be letting us sleep in, we still had a great time ringing in the new year with friends. Luckily, we had nothing planned on New Years Day except being lazy on the couch and throwing toys in your general vicinity to keep you occupied.

So that's pretty much where we are now. You're 7 months old and tons of fun. You're also starting to throw attitude around, like you're trying to test your boundaries. I had no idea it could start this young, but apparently it does. There are days that I KNOW you're hungry, but you'll decide for whatever reason to make your mouth like Fort Knox and refuse to eat. Or you'll spend 20 minutes telling your toys how mad you are at them, when I can't tell that they ever did anything to you. Or when, in a fit of pique, you decide to use my neck as a scratching post as I'm holding you. Dang it, Cletus, those nails are sharp.

But even with all of that, I think we'll keep you. Especially when you do your cute little wiggly dance that you like to do so much now. Or when you call out "dada" when you see your dad walking down the hall.

Love,

Your Mom