happy 1st birthday, milo!

Happy day, Milo! Today is your birthday! Your first birthday.

I can hardly type those words without feeling a catch in my breath. In so many ways it doesn't seem possible that you were born a year ago. Becoming a mama is a big, big thing and I remember it like it just happened. I remember the waiting, oh the waiting, and the contracting, oh the contracting, and the pushing, sweet mother of all that is holy the PUSHING...

And then you were born.

You made me a mama in that moment. That very moment.

Yes, Milo, in so many ways it doesn't seem possible that 12 months have passed since you were born.

And, yet, in other ways, I feel like I'm a million miles from that moment.

A million miles.

You were a newborn. And now, one year later, you are a little person! And you are an AMAZING little person. Smart and sweet and charming and adorable and funny! You like to make us laugh. You like to read books on my lap and, when I finish reading one, you go to the basket and bring me a new one to read.

You love balls. We were at Old Navy this week and I was carrying you. We walked past a bin of soccer balls and you reached out your arm and said, "BALL." Your first word. "Ball." We wanted to declare you gifted on the spot and send you to genius school.

You are a good eater. For the most part. Anything you don't want to eat, you throw on the ground for the puppies to eat. It's a behavior we are trying to curb but that is proving difficult to eliminate because you're so omg! cute when you lean over the side and laugh as the dogs lick avocado off your fingers.

And I think my favorite thing about you right now is the sing songy thing you do in the car. I have the music on and you "sing" in your car seat. Makes. my. mama. heart. melttttt.

Yes, Milo, you have come a long way in one year.

But you're not the only one.

I am different than the person I was a year ago. Different and, I hope, better.

I have learned so much from being your mama. I'm learning how to let go. How to let go of being organized, being tidy, being on time, and being perfect.

I'm learning to forgive myself.

I'm learning to trust myself.

I'm learning to be present. You taught me that, Milo. I can't keep you from growing up and I can't rewind time, but I CAN be so fully present in each moment that I don't have any regrets.

I'm learning how much goodness there is in the world. How can I doubt God's goodness when I see your face?

And I am learning to love in a way I never knew was possible. I know, I know. Everyone says it. I'm not saying anything new. But, it's true. I love you with this fierce, instinctual, and unconditional love that I've never experienced before.

Milo, I was so afraid of your first birthday. I think I've been dreading it since you turned one month old. Silly, I know. But that's how I felt. I think I worried that, once you turned one, you wouldn't be my baby anymore. I've started weaning you now. And it's another indication that you are growing up. No longer my baby.

But, now your first birthday has come and gone. And it's not so bad. This morning I went in your room to get you and you were standing up in your crib. When you saw me, you laughed and then reached your arms up to me. I picked you up. You put your head on my shoulder and you patted me.

No it's not so bad having a one-year-old. In fact, it's really, really great.

And, honestly, it doesn't matter HOW OLD you get.

Because I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always.

As long as I'm living,

my baby you'll be.

Happy first birthday, Milo. I love you with my whole self.

Love,

Mama

happy 11 months, milo!

Happy day, Milo! You are 11 months old!

I'm sorry your letter is so late this month. Mama has had a lot on her mind. BUT, I love you all the same, I promise.

Your 11th month brought BIG changes! Most notable is that YOU MOVED TO KANSAS! You were such a good boy during the move, Milo. You took everything in stride. The big boxes, the commotion of loading the truck, the looooooong drive, the late night hotel stay in Hays, and then moving in with Grandma. You were flexible, sweet, and charming. Really, you amazed me.

You seem to like Kansas. We took you to the pool for the first time and you loved the water. You like to splash and you laugh when Daddy throws you up high.

You rode on the back of Daddy's bike for the first time. (And, YES, you have your own helmet!) You like it when Daddy rides fast. Mommy just has to trust Daddy. And pray.

You started giving high 5's and clapping. It's pretty adorable.

And, best of all, you seem to be thriving on all the extra love and attention you've been receiving from your big, big, big Kansas family. Whenever Mama starts to miss Colorado or feels like maybe this was a mistake, I remember how big your grin gets when you see one of your grandparents. And I remember how important it is to your dad and me that you have a big family who loves you.

Milo, part of the reason your letter is late this month is because we've been busy. But part of the reason is because this is your 11 month letter. And that means that next month is your twelve month letter. It means you are almost one year old. One year old.

My heart aches a little when I think about you turning one year old. I'm so proud of you and of us for making it. This was the biggest year of my life. And I know that, God willing, we have many, many years in front of us to celebrate you.

But, you are my first baby. You are the baby that made me a mama. And it has been almost one year since you blasted my old life into pieces and helped me create a new life. One year since you made my heart grow 10 times bigger. One year since you were born.

Sometimes we look at you and we say, "When did our baby become a little boy?" Because you are. You are becoming a little boy. And that is ok because that is what you are supposed to do.

But, for your mama, it is bittersweet.

Anyway, you're not one year old yet. Today, you are still my 11-month-old. And today, just like yesterday and tomorrow, I love you with my whole heart.

Love,

Mama

happy 10 months, milo!

Happy day, Milo! You are TEN months old today!

Mommy is writing this letter while you are napping because there's no way I could write it if you were awake. You. are. so. BUSY!

You love to crawl all over. And you love to find new things. This morning I was watching you and you found a tiny piece of string in your toy box. You were fascinated, rubbing it between your fingers for, what felt like, minutes.

You are eating finger foods now. I've been putting food on your highchair tray for a couple of weeks now but it wasn't until today that you were able to pick it up and put it in your mouth. It's like you were waiting to be ten months old and decided that now you feed yourself! It's adorable. You have SIX teeth and use them to chew up banana, avocado, tofu, and cheese.

Milo, I'll be honest. Your 10-month birthday snuck up on me.

Last night, I was waiting for my friend to meet me at Thai Basil and, as I sat at the window, I realized I was across the street from the hospital where you were born. I could even see the window to our room. And it was then I remembered that today was your 10-month birthday.

It's funny, Milo. I used to know, to the day, how many days until your next milestone "birthday." But this one snuck up on me. Maybe it is because we are busy packing. Or maybe it is because I can't remember my life before you. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to remember, but I can't recall what it felt like to not be your mama. It feels like I've been your mama for always.

Milo, I took your picture today. And it made me sad to think this is the last "monthly milo" picture I'll take in Denver. We're moving in 8 days.

We are moving you closer to your grandparents, Milo. And your aunts and uncles. They love you SO much and we want you to be close to them.

But, I'm so glad you were born here. In Colorado. You are our "Denver baby." The best souvenir ever. A forever reminder of our time here.

In the middle of packing, in the middle of thinking about our "new" life in KC, in the middle of feeling excited, in the middle of feeling heavy-hearted, I've discovered something, Milo.

My home is wherever you are.

Kansas. Colorado. It's all just scenery.

My heart is "home" when I'm with you and your dad.

And, for that, I am forever grateful.

I love you,

Mama

happy 9 months, milo!

Happy day, Milo! You are nine months old today!

Milo, your ninth month was big. Huge. Epic, really.

This month you started eating blueberries, brussel sprouts, cherries, yellow squash, eggplant, and yogurt.

You cut your second tooth. You now have two adorable teeth on the bottom.

But the BIG news is that you started crawling! And, once you discovered mobility, you immediately started pulling up on things. You love to pull up on something—anything-- and sit on your knees. And you love to investigate. You pull up by the TV, the refrigerator, the dishwasher, the table, the bathtub. You’ve lost interest in your toys—you’d much rather play with the laundry Mama is trying to fold or the groceries Mama is trying to put away or the DVD player or the dog bowl or the remote control or Mama’s flip flops…!

And even though it makes life way harder for your Mama now that you are crawling, I secretly love watching you decide to go after something, crawl to it, and then investigate it. I love your curiosity! I love that you are delighted by the simple things in your world. (I also love that giving you two metal measuring cups to bang together buys me enough time to go to the bathroom!)

Milo, it has been so fun to watch you move.

But, I’ll be honest.

The day you learned to crawl, I cried.

Mostly it was out of pride. I know all babies learn to crawl. But you are my baby and watching my baby move across the floor on his own felt like a really big deal.

I mostly felt pride. But I also felt a pang of sadness.

Because for nine months I kept you safe inside my body. You were tucked beneath my heart. Snug and warm. And I pumped you full of vitamins and love.

And then you came out. And that was a little bit scary. (Ok, a LOT scary) I had to make sure I didn’t drop you. But I didn’t. And, for the most part, your dad and I felt like we could still keep you safe. For nine more months we could hold you tight and keep you close.

But now.

Now you can move.

On your own.

And you can pull up. Which means you also fall over. A lot. And you bump your head. And you pinch your fingers. And you scrape your knees. And I have to watch and make sure you don’t find something tiny that you can put in your mouth and choke on.

And it makes me want to wrap you up in bubble wrap. Or, even better, stick you in a padded box forever so you can’t get hurt.

But I know that’s not what’s best for you. There’s a reason babies learn to crawl. Because the momentum of life is always forward.

Your learning to crawl has made me mindful of these words from Kahlil Gibran:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit,

not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,

and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

for even as He loves the arrow that flies,

so He loves the bow that is stable.

I know you’re only nine months old. You’re still a baby. But mamas have this keen ability to see the future. To feel the future. And, today, I can feel you moving forward. You are my living arrow, baby boy. And I feel so lucky to be your bow.

I love you,

Mama

happy 8 months, milo!

It is getting increasingly difficult to take his "monthly milo" photos! It takes two of us to even come CLOSE to getting a good picture & I've almost totally given up on getting the sign in there. Oh well, he sure is cute. =)

Happy day, Milo! You are eight months old today!

EIGHT MONTHS.

That. is. crazy.

I really thought your seventh month was my favorite. (And, before that, I thought your sixth month was my favorite...) But, seriously, Milo, your eighth month was my FAVORITE! Because, really, you just get cuter, sweeter, smarter, and more fun every single day.

You are becoming a real person. Like, for real. Like, I like to be around you! You are a happy, happy baby. You LOVE to be outside. Sometimes, when I open the front or back door, you SQUEAL in delight. And, when we drive somewhere and then I open your car door to get you out of your car seat, you SQUEAL in delight. It's like you are happy to see me and, I'll tell you a secret, sometimes I feel like I want to squeal too because I'm happy to see YOU!

*Sigh*

This month you started eating all kinds of new foods. You eat spinach, green beans, zucchini, peaches, cauliflower, plums, asparagus, and mango. So far, you like everything but peas. =)

AND, you cut your first tooth! Your bottom right tooth was the first to pop up. I think you're less than thrilled about getting teeth, but, if you're patient, it means you can someday eat things like pizza and hamburgers, I promise.

You are so observant and it is so fun for me, as your mama, to see the world through your eyes. You love the fish tank at the sushi restaurant, you love the gerbils at Petsmart, you love to touch the buds on the trees in our front yard, and you LOVE to sit in your swing and watch the puppies play with their frisbee. You laugh and laugh. Yesterday, I took you for a walk and you laughed every time the wind blew your hair. Life is fresh and new to you. You are present in each and every moment. And it helps make life fresh and new for me too. You help ME be present.

Present and thankful.

You are observing the world around you and I can tell you are trying to decide if the world around you is okay. If it is scary or not. Like when I hand you to someone you don't know and you look to me with a worried look as if to ask, Is this ok, mama? And every time I vacuum, your bottom lip starts to quiver and I have to turn it off and come hold you and tell you "It's not scary! It's just loud!" And, last night in the bath tub, you got water up your nose and it surprised you. You looked at me with a worried look. Is this scary, mama? And I looked at you back and I smiled. And I said, "It's ok, Milo! You're ok!" And then you went on playing.

It's a big responsibility to have someone look to you and ask if the world is scary or not.

Because, sometimes, when I tell you it's ok, I feel like I'm lying.

Sometimes, I feel like the world IS a scary place.

This past week there was an earthquake. And a tsunami. And the threat of nuclear meltdown.

And there are riots. All over.

And someone important to a dear friend of mine was assaulted in a hate crime here in Denver.

Yes, Milo, I feel like I'm lying to you when I tell you the world is okay. That it's not scary.

Milo, here's the thing. It does feel scary sometimes. And you are growing so fast. I won't be able to protect you forever. And I am so very aware of how capable we humans are of destroying things. And how vulnerable we are because we are human.

But, Milo, then I look at you. I look at you. I look at you and know you are too much. Too much goodness. Too much wonderfulness. Too much joy for my heart to hold. And I'm so very aware of how capable we humans are of creating good, wonderful things.

This week, in the middle of gut-wrenching news from Japan & Libya & my very own neighborhood, I've been comforted by these words:

I see babies cry.

I watch them grow.

They'll learn much more,

Than I'll ever know.

And, I think to myself

What a wonderful world.

Yes, Milo, I look at you and think to myself...

What a wonderful world.

Love,

Mama

today is a special, special day

Dear Milo,

Today is a special, special day.

Today is your baptism day.

Your grandparents drove all day to be here for your special day. You have a new outfit to wear. It's a special, special day.

Milo, I know you don't understand this day. For you, this day is no different than any other. But, for me, this is a special, special day.

I've been thinking about this letter for a long time. Thinking about what I want to say to you. How to explain your baptism day to you.

You see, I remember my baptism day. I was 10 years old. I remember going to the front of the church with my parents and my brother, your Uncle Justin. I remember the pastor laying his hands on my head. I don't remember the words he said, but I remember the way it felt to be loved so completely. To be told I am beloved. To be told I am God's child. To be surrounded by people who loved me and wanted my life to be filled with grace.

And I remember crying. I was 10 years old, but somehow I understood what it meant, and it moved me.

And part of me is sad for you that you will not remember this day. Because it is a special, special day.

Today, your parents, your grandparents, and your church family will be present with you. The pastors will lay hands on you. We will say vows. We, as your family and as your church, will commit to raising you in the Church. We will say, "We are your Church, Milo, and we love you so very much."

And then the pastors will baptize you, Milo.

They will sprinkle you with water. You will be baptized by water & the Spirit.

The water is an outward sign. A sign of your belonging. A sign of how much we love you. Of how much your Church loves you. And, most importantly, a sign of how much God loves you.

And, after we have prayed over you, Pastor George will carry you around the sanctuary. And we will sing to you. We will sing these words:

Milo Stephen, God claims you.

God helps you,

protects you,

and loves you too.

We are here to say, this day,

that we will help you

on the way.

Milo Stephen, God claims you.

God helps you,

protects you,

and loves you too.

Milo, today is a special, special day. Today we will say, "Milo, we are your Church."

As your mother, I can do my best to raise you as a person of faith. It is my hope for you that tomorrow will mark the beginning of a spiritual journey for you. That you will continue to seek God, to understand God's nearness, to believe God's goodness resides within your very own body.

It is my hope for you that you will desire God. To seek God's will for your life. To participate in God's redeeming work in the world. To be a co-creator of justice, love, and mercy. To be grace-filled.

Today is a special, special day. Today we will say, "Milo, we are your Church."

And it is my hope, as your mother, that someday you will say for yourself, "This is MY Church."

I can't be certain. After all, you are your own person and will have to, eventually, find your own way in this world.

But, always, always remember these things:

God loves you.

Your Church loves you.

And I love you so very, very, very much.

Happy Baptism day,

Mama

happy 7 months, milo!

Happy day, Milo! You are seven months old today!

Your seventh month was a BIG one! You started eating solid foods & are now eating sweet potatoes, butternut squash, carrots, avocado, apples, bananas, & pears. (Mama tries to feed you peas but you shake your head "no.")

You hardly ever sit in your exersaucer because you prefer to play on your playmat on the floor. You can push up, scoot yourself backwards, turn yourself around, & roll over. It won't be long before Mama will be chasing you all over the house!

The best thing about your seventh month is that you really PLAY now. Your favorite game is to shake your head "no" & then wait for us to copy you. You have started saying "dadadada" but we don't think you're really saying "dada" yet. (Personally, I think "mama" should be your first word...)

You LOVE to read books & help us turn the pages. You love your puppies. You love to ride in the car. You love to swing at the park. You love to touch faces. (And pull on ears!) And you are old enough to sit in your highchair at the dinner table with us & hold our hands when we say a prayer before dinner.

AND YOU HAVE STARTED SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT!!! OMG, Mama thought this day would NEVER come, but you have been sleeping 10-12 hours at night for THREE weeks now! Milo, you have NO idea how happy this makes your mama...

Milo, today you are seven months old. And today I'm remembering that, almost a year ago, we found out you were a boy. I was sad, Milo. I'm so sorry to tell you that, but it's true. I wanted a baby girl. I wanted to have a daughter. I wanted the pink.

But, Milo, I didn't know. I didn't know how wonderful a son would be. I didn't know you. And, Milo, you are the best, best, BEST thing that has ever happened to me. And I am so honored to be your mama. And so, today, on your seven month birthday, I'm so filled with gratitude & love for YOU, my wonderfully amazing & sweet son.

I love you!

Love,

Mama

blessed are the troublemakers

Dear Milo,

I took this picture of you the other day.

You look adorable. But I started to think. If peace signs are "cool," cool enough to put on baby onesies & baby hats, then I'm not sure we're teaching you the right things. Because, Milo, being a peacemaker is so much more than wearing a peace sign.

A few weeks ago I went to church without you & the sermon was about the Beatitudes. You're too little right now, but some day Mama will teach you about the Beatitudes. Because they might be one of my favorite parts of the Bible.

The sermon was good, but something that was said during the children's moment has really bothered me. I'm not trying to pick on the person who did the children's moment. After all, talking about things in the Bible in a way that kids can understand them is really, really hard to do.

The thing that bothered me is that, when explaining the beatitude "blessed are the peacemakers," the kids were told that this means God likes it when we don't cause trouble.

And it got me thinking.

I started thinking about peacemakers. The ones I've read about & the ones I know personally. And, Milo, I think almost every single peacemaker who came to mind has been arrested. Maybe not all of them, but most of them. Not because they are bad people, but because they were, indeed, causing trouble.

You see, Milo, there are lots & lots of things in our world that aren't right. There are lots of things that are unfair. And sometimes, in order to make things fair, in order to make things right, you have to cause a little trouble. And the reason the Beatitudes are so ridiculous is because Jesus is saying the very opposite of what the storyteller during the children's moment was saying. Jesus says "blessed are the peacemakers," but he really means, "blessed are the people who get in trouble trying to make things fair."

Before you were born, Mama & two of her friends went to the Sea of Galilee & climbed up Mt. Beatitude. Here is Mama on Mt. Beatitude:

It was really special to be at the Sea of Galilee & to be in the place where Jesus said, "blessed are the peacemakers." But, Milo, being there was scary. We went there to be with people who get in lots & lots of trouble because they are trying to make things more fair. We even got into some trouble ourselves. It is hard, hard work to be a peacemaker, Milo.

In a few weeks, you will be baptized. Mama & Daddy will stand up with you at the front of the church & present you for baptism. Your grandparents will be there, too. And then the pastor will baptize you with water that Mama collected from the Sea of Galilee.

I still remember taking off my shoes & socks, wading out into the chilly water, leaning over & collecting water from the Sea in an empty water bottle. I didn't have you yet, but I was hoping for you.

And I still hope for you, Milo. I hope that, on the day of your baptism, you will know that you are loved. I hope you will grow up confident in your identity as a child of God. And, I hope you will always remember the water that baptized you. The water that holds the whispers of a promise...

Blessed are the troublemakers, for they shall be called the children of God...

Love,

Mama

happy 6 months, milo!

Ok, I don't normally post so many pictures on his monthly birthdays, but this photo session is too indicative of our lives with a six-month-old to leave out one single shot...

"What? Why'd you take my paper, Mom?"

Happy day, Milo! You are six months old today!

Six months. Half a year.

This month I flew with you to California and, when we arrived in Oakland, I took you on the moving walkway. As I stood there with you, I could see our reflections in the window. And I remembered a conversation I had with my mama about how motherhood is like standing on a moving walkway. Even if I hold really, really still and hold you really, really tight, we keep moving.

We keep moving. You keep growing. It doesn’t seem possible to me that the tiny (ok, not SO tiny) baby I birthed & brought home is now six months old. I try to savor as many moments as I can. To remember how you feel when I hold you. To tuck your baby smell away in my memory so I won’t forget it.

But it’s hard. Time goes by so fast that it feels blurry to me. Already, I can’t remember what it felt like to hold you when you were first born. And that makes me sad.

Your Auntie Lauren gave me a CD for Christmas. It’s called “Songs for Parents” & I love each and every song on the CD. This one, in particular, resonated with me. It’s called “Small Piece of You.”

I just want a small piece of you,
a token to put in my pocket


and I will own that one thing
and it would make me happy


I just want a small piece of you,
something to put in a locket


And I will look at it daily
and that will make me happy

I guess it's human nature to want to hold you very still


I guess it's in a mother to inject a little guilt


Go on son and see the world; I hope you see it all


But please please please don't forget to call.

Free to fly free to go free to not look back


That's how free I want you though it scares me half to death


Free to wander miles and miles and free to come back home


That's how free I want you though it chills me to the bone

...Go on son and spread your wings; I hope that you take flight


But please please please don't forget to write

I know you're just a baby sleeping in your bed


And you probably have other thoughts drifting through your head


I know this conversation's a little premature


It's just that I've heard eighteen years goes by like a blur...

Even though I’m sad I can’t remember what it feels like to hold “newborn you”, I love the you that you are becoming! You are sitting up on your own & you started rice cereal this week. You started rolling over to sleep on your tummy.

But I think the biggest change this month is that you are really becoming a little person. Like, um, a person with opinions! You are quick to let me know when you want something or when you’re frustrated. You’ve started arching your back & kicking your legs. (OMG!) It’s as if you know where you want to go & what you want, but you can’t quite make it happen on your own. Plus, you are so busy! You are always wiggling, squirming, reaching, grabbing, & kicking. Honestly, changing your diaper feels like wrestling a little monkey!

Now that you are six months old, you put yourself to sleep. Daddy & I rock you & read to you, but we always put you in your crib awake & you fall asleep on your own. This makes bedtime & naptime really easy but, I’ll admit, sometimes I miss holding my sleeping baby.

Last night you woke up to nurse & so I fed you. When you were finished, I held you up to burp you & you laid your head on my shoulder & went to sleep.

I know you are growing. And getting older. And you can put yourself to sleep. And you are beginning to differentiate yourself as your own person. And all the wiggling, squirming, & reaching is how you learn about the world around you.

But last night, I just sat & let you sleep on my shoulder. And I rocked & rocked & rocked you. You were

completely

still.

Content.

Peaceful.

And my heart almost exploded with love for you.

You are growing so fast. I can see it. I can see you, someday soon, starting to crawl & walk. I can imagine you going to kindergarten & I know it’s ridiculous, but I can imagine you graduating from high school & becoming a young man…

But, last night, you were still my baby. And I soaked up every

single

minute.

Love,

Mama

happy 5 months, milo!

Happy day, Milo! You are 5 months old today!

Oh my gosh, Milo, 4 months was SO MUCH FUN!

You are such a fun & good baby. And you hardly EVER cry. You have discovered your toes and love to play with your feet. You are really close to sitting up on your own. You want so badly to sit up in the bath tub & play with your rubber duck. You are easily entertained. We took you out to dinner & you loved playing with the straw wrapper. You love your thumb and might be a thumb sucker?!

AND, the biggest news of all, you’ve started SLEEPING!!! (You are a little messed up now that we are on vacation but BEFORE we came to KS you were sleeping 5 hour stretches at night! OMG, your mama started having dreams at night again! Hello, REM sleep, I have missed you…)

Milo, it is only 4 more days until we celebrate Christmas with you. Your first Christmas. Your very first one. And my first Christmas as a mama. I’m hoping we have many, many more Christmases together but this one is so special because it is our first one with you.

Milo, on Christmas morning you will have one gift from us. I know you will get many, many more gifts, but from us, you will get one.

I was sad about this, at first. If I could, Milo, I would buy you the moon and wrap it up for you.

But, I was reminded that you don’t care if we only have one present under the tree for you.

And I was reminded of all the gifts we give you that can’t be wrapped.

So, Milo, here are the “gifts” you’re getting this year:

Two parents who love you more than anything in this world. Two parents who are committed to loving each other & being parents together. We are committed to this family.

A daddy who works really hard so you can have a warm house to live in. And a daddy who, when he gets home from work after a long day, can’t wait for you to wake up and cry so he can run in & pick you up from your crib. He’s a good, good daddy.

And a mama who stays home with you to love & care for you all day long. A mama who loves you something fierce.

And grandparents. Milo, you are so lucky to have grandparents who love you & play with you & dote on you like you are the world’s most wonderful baby.

And great-grandparents. And aunts, uncles, & cousins.

You are surrounded, Milo. Surrounded by people who love you & who are committed to raising you.
And that is a gift that simply cannot be wrapped.

Love,
Mama

advent, babies, and thoughts on peace

Dear Milo,

You don't understand it, but it's Christmastime. You love the tree. And the lights. And you seem to like the Pandora Christmas station.

But, Milo. I want to tell you about my favorite part of Christmas.

It's called Advent. Advent is a time of waiting. And preparing. And hoping. (Last Christmas, we were waiting, preparing, and hoping for you!)

Last Sunday, Christians around the world celebrated the second Sunday of Advent and lit the candle of peace.

At our church, the young adult group hosted a group of folks from the Multicultural Mosaic Foundation in Denver. A group of Muslims, men and women, came to our church to speak about Islam and their organizational efforts to build peace through dialogue and education. (i.e. They take time to travel to Christian churches and Jewish synagogues to prove that Muslims aren't scary.)

Our young adult group invited other Sunday School classes to attend as well and, at 9:30 a.m., the room was full.

My stomach was in knots. I knew what kind of questions the young adults would ask, but I had no idea what kinds of questions the other folks would ask. I didn't want to be embarrassed. I didn't want to offend our Muslim guests.

In addition to worrying about the questions that would be asked, I had to worry about you. Sunday School is smack dab in the middle of when you should be napping, but I'm too chicken to put you in the nursery and Daddy was working.

I was right. People asked questions that embarrassed me. But Ismail and Andrea and the other friends from MMF didn't bat an eyelash. They responded to the questions with patience and grace. More patience and grace than we deserved.

(Afterward, I asked Ismail if he gets tired of answering the same questions over and over again and having to defend his faith. He said, yes, it is tiring, but it is necessary. He said he hopes that someday he won't have to travel to churches and defend Islam. That is my hope, too.)

But I was wrong about you. You were perfect. Even though you were exhausted, you didn't make a peep.

And when the class was over, the Muslim women hustled over to you and oohed and ahhed over you. And you put on quite the show. You let one of the mamas hold you and smiled your gigantic, toothless grin. One of the women was pregnant and is having a baby boy in February. I told her baby boys were wonderful and we talked about where she is going to deliver.

I realized that motherhood is capable of transcending lots and lots of boundaries. All mamas love their babies and want what's best for them.

And Milo, I looked at you with pride and joy. I ached for Ismail, Andrea, and the mamas who were holding you because building peace must be oh so exhausting. But on the day we lit a candle of peace, I looked at you. My little 16-pound peacemaker. And I felt like I have reason to hope.

Love,

Mama

happy 4 months, milo!

Happy day, Milo! You are four months old today!

You are doing so many amazing things now! You can roll over (both directions!), stand up in your exersaucer, and you are so good at holding your head up that Mama can carry you on her hip. You are becoming really observant—looking out windows, watching the dogs, and you’ve even started looking at the pages in the books we read to you.

Also, you’ve started putting everything in your mouth. And I mean EVERYTHING. Your hands, your lovey, the mail. You’ve even started trying to eat my cheek when I hold you close and kiss you, which is, of course, absolutely adorable.

Oh, one other awesome thing about you holding your own head up? Those moments when you decide to lay your head on my shoulder…

Milo, I love you so much that my heart hurts.

And I love you so much that it kills me to tell you this.

Milo, I didn’t know that being a mama would be so hard.

David tells me that being a mother is hard because I care so much about being a good one. I suppose he’s right, but Milo, I didn’t know that being a mama would be so hard.

I didn’t know how much I would doubt myself. How anxiety and guilt would take up permanent residence in the hollow of my stomach. I didn’t know how much my heart would ache when you cry. I didn’t know how much I would worry about trying to help you grow up healthy, safe, and happy.

I didn’t know how much it would require me to sacrifice. How my life would sometimes feels like it is no longer my own. How I would get almost nothing done in a 24-hour period because I am so consumed with caring for you.

However.

(Baby, please know there’s always a however.)

However, I love you more than I ever could have imagined.

And it’s totally worth it.

YOU are worth it.

Because being your mom means moments like this one:

Moments at night when it’s almost bedtime. And you snuggle down into me. And I can smell your sweet head that smells like baby shampoo. And I can hear the sweet sound of you sucking on your fingers. And I remember that you are mine.

Milo, I didn’t know that being a mama would be so hard.

However.

I also didn’t know that being a mama would be so wonderful.

I love you,

Mama