I can't believe (in more ways than one) you're eight weeks old today. On the one hand, these past eight weeks have just flown by. The first four were a blur of nursing and pumping and weighing and worrying and loving. These last four have been a blur of settling into the busy-ness of our family routine with you happily being carted around for the ride. I still kind of can't believe you're really here. On the other hand, I feel like I've known you forever and I can't imagine what our family would have been like without you. When we have our little visits during the quiet moments in the day, I keep expecting you to come out with a sentence or two. "Mom, can you sing me that song about Mr. Sun again?" or "Hey, you want to lay off the chipotle mayo, already? That stuff gives me wicked gas!" all conveyed by a certain look in your eye or a little coo. And the smiles...don't even get me started! I'm looking so forward to the Gavin-giggles that I'm sure are just around the corner.
I love you,
Mommy
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