Dear Linde,

You are now 3 months old. Congratulations to us, we’ve made it through the 4^th trimester. I guess you are officially ready to start your life out in the world. We’ve seen some major changes this month. Truthfully, you learn something new everyday. I’m constantly amazed by you. You’ve really started to interact with your world. You lay in your play gym, and grab at the hanging toys. It was just a few weeks ago that you hated even being placed there on the floor. You are starting to like tummy time, especially if we turn on a little PBS Kids in front of you. Don’t tell your Grandparents, but you are mesmerized by the television. Your Dad and I can’t watch when you are in the room. When it’s on, you pay attention to nothing else! You started sleeping through the night this month. Though it’s still inconsistent, we’re just happy knowing it’s possible. You smile non-stop, it melts your Dad when he sees you smile first thing in the morning. You’ve discovered your feet, hands and tongue. All day you’re drooling and making tongue noises at me, it has replaced your previous dry coos. Last week you held your right hand in the air and stared at it all day long. It only lasted for a day, now you’ve discovered them, and its old hat. You apparently don’t need to stare at them anymore, you know they are there, and you know how to use them.

This is my last full week at home with you before I go back to work, and you go to daycare. We’re spending the week staying home, playing and going to the park. I’m trying to soak up as much of you as I can. I’m building up some Linde reserves in my soul for those long days at work without you. I try not to think too much about you at daycare. I cry whenever I talk about it. I’m crying now (and crying again while I proof read). The thought of you getting upset, and me not being there to comfort you, breaks my heart. You won’t know where I am, and for those first few days, I bet you won’t know if I’m coming back. Don’t worry, I’ll always be back. I’ll always be there for you, no matter what. On my days off we’ll play, and nap, and dance on the kitchen table, just like we do now. I know you will be fine at daycare. You are strong and resilient. You’ll make friends, and learn new things. It will be me that has the hardest time adjusting to this, I know it.

Photo by Aunt Sara

I’ve been thinking about your Great Grandfather a lot today. Maybe its because I keep thinking I’m seeing someone walking in our yard, and then look out the window and see this same white butterfly casting shadows larger than itself across the lawn. I wish so much that he could have met you. He’d be so proud of us, of you, and how you represent the next generation of this family. When you’re older I’ll tell you all about him and his wonderful life, and how he built this strong, intelligent, compassionate family that you belong to.

My Grandfather and I

Today is your Dad and I’s second wedding anniversary. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate than the three of us hanging out together. You are remarkable, and I love you and our little family more than anything.

Mom