We've come a long way in three months

Little man, as I am writing this, you are gently waking from a nap and getting ready for your next feeding. On Monday you will be three months old, and although you are still so young, I feel that I have gained much wisdom as a mother in these twelve short weeks. You and I work together each day to make sure you are well fed; it's a relationship I am proud of for both of us, and one I cherish so much. Others tell me what a wonderful baby you are, so easy, so content, so gentle. These are things I already know and knew before you were born, of course. But it's so nice to get to share you with them and see their amazement at how you're growing and at the beautiful little boy you are inside and out.

By now you've passed many milestones, some poetic and some mundane, and none of which you will remember: recovering from mild newborn jaundice, first feeding, first smile, first colic, first immunizations, first bottle. We are still waiting on that first laugh, and oh how I will laugh with you when I hear it for the first time! You keep flirting with giggles and chortles, but I want to hear that laugh from way down deep when you decide to let it go. I love everything about you, but there are so many things I can tell you about yourself now that are priceless. I love the knowing grin you give me as you are feeding sometimes. It lets me know that you are in a state of bliss, probably not unlike what your momma feels when she eats dark chocolate. I love your beautiful face: I love seeing it change day by day as you grow to look more and more like your father. I love how the one constant and strikingly beautiful feature since the day of your birth has been your eyes, so much like your grandmother Lynda's in their shape. I love your little fingers and hands, so much like your fathers with their dimpled knuckles, gaining strength daily and reaching grasp toys, hair and unsuspecting noses. I love the way you look at me with your many expressions, such as the deeply contemplative cocked eyebrow gaze you often give your father and me. I love your chubby cheeks and legs, both signs that you are flourishing from your mother's milk and your daddy's tender care. I love you, plain and simple!