Dear Ben

Wow, my little guy.  I can't believe you are already nearing your 8th month.  How fast time flies!!!  You are growing so fast, and becoming such an incredible little person.  You have beautiful blue eyes, and an amazing smile that lights up your whole face.  Well, really you have two smiles.  One is your wide-eyed, laugh-out-loud, couldn't-be-happier smile that takes over a room.  The other is your narrow-lipped, squinty-eyed grin that doubles the size of your cheeks, and reminds me of the cheshire cat, though not quite so toothy. 

Speaking of teeth, you have three of them now, and probably three more on the way.  They are creeping in slowly, and they make you cry sometimes.  You are learning how to use them with skillfull practice on anything you can put in your mouth, including your mama.  It brought as many tears to my eyes as yours the first time you tried out those little chompers while nursing.  I cried not so much because you hurt me, but because I responded so quickly with your first ever firm reprimand and harsh "NO!" that you looked at me like I'd turned into a beast, and began to cry out of fear.  It broke my heart a little that I'd made you feel so scared, when I'm the one you are supposed to trust beyond all others.  For that I'm so sorry.   

Luckily you are still my little mama's boy, despite my occasional growl.  I'm your favorite person in the whole world, and you'd be content to stay in my arm all day long if I'd let you.  You have started becoming wary of strangers, and the little smile you used to flash at everyone is now reserved for your moms, little kids, and your grandma when she calls you on the web cam. 

You learn something new everyday, and I'm always surprised by how far you've come.  Your favorite thing to do is try to feed yourself.  You are a champ at getting Cherios into your mouth, sometimes fistfulls at a time.  You have now moved on to trying to steal the spoon out of my hand when I'm feeding you baby food, and you try to pick up the resulting gloppy drops on your high chair tray like they are cereal too.  When it doesn't quite work, you make beautiful pea and carrot finger paintings that we have to wipe off the tray, your face, the bib, and mama's shirts.  Today you even managed to finger-paint my hair with rice cereal and applesauce. 

You are excellent at blowing raspberries, rolling onto your tummy, grabbing everything you can reach, jabbering non-stop, smiling, splashing in the bathtub, crying when I leave your line of sight, and bouncing in the jump-a-roo. You love your naps, and being rocked in the rocking chair.  You do not yet have any interest in the dogs, crawling, blowing kisses, drinking from a cup (sippy or otherwise) or sleeping all the way through the night without some reassurance that your moms are close by.   

I love you more than I ever thought I could.  I pray that you will learn how fun a little independence can be, though I miss you when you don't wake me up at night.  I love that you still like to lay against my chest, and rest a while, and I hope you will always let me hold your soft little hand in mine, even when it's not so little any more.

Love unconditionally,
Mama