to our baby boy, at nine months

Baby Bear,

Remember these letters? I wrote you one every month for your first five months, and then got so busy being your mom that I forgot to write another one all winter. A lot has changed since that last letter! You're like a different little kid now -- closer to a toddler than a newborn, and every day lately reveals some new skill or word or expression that I've never seen before. We're in the middle of a smooth patch, and parenting right now is mostly just fun.

And yes, part of me misses that little baby who would snuggle for hours, who wanted nothing more than to sit in mom's lap. Now, you're crawling everywhere, pulling yourself up on our furniture and trying to walk. You're tipping over the dogs' water bowl and grabbing for our television remotes and generally wreaking havoc on our house, and we wouldn't change it for a second. (Ok, maybe we'd change the 5:30 a.m. wake-ups, but other than those, not a thing.) Sections of our house are baby-proofed and you mostly sleep through the night. (FINALLY.) We have a routine. That, actually, might just be the biggest victory.

The best change in these last few months has been that parenting has finally gotten a little bit easier. Sure, you're still the boss of this house, but you're not a lunatic dictator anymore. You're fairly reasonable in your demands, and we've gotten better at figuring out what you need. Most of the time, except for the occasional sick day or tooth coming in, we all get along fairly well.

And those hazy first weeks and months, when I could barely see straight through the sleep deprivation and the all-consuming worries?

They're just memories now. We made it.

And you know who doesn't always get enough credit on this blog? Your dad.

Because, here's the thing: If I'm the one keeping you sane, he's the one keeping me sane. On the days when it feels like starting a law firm and running a blog and being a mom are not just beyond my limits but beyond the limits of any human being... he's the one who doesn't give up. It makes a huge difference to have someone in your corner, every day, certain that you can do it. It makes you feel like, just maybe, you actually can.

There are so many things I can say about the last few months, but I'll keep this letter short and sweet. I can't believe it's been nine months since you entered our lives. We've had a lot of ups and downs along the way, but I wouldn't trade a single second of them. We're so very lucky to have you.

I love you so much,

Your Mom.