Dear Sam,



It's official...you are 6 years old.  You were so excited about your birthday this year.  You planned your party months in advance, you were very specific about the gifts you wanted, and you invited everybody this side of the Mississippi to your party.  Like...seriously...everybody.  But in all seriousness, it was fun.



This has been a big year for you!  You started kindergarten this year.  You lost three (yes THREE) teeth this year.  (Although to be fair, to date you have actually lost four....Momma's a little late with the letter.)  The tooth fairy has been one busy lady.  And you played soccer for the first time this year.  Lots of firsts.


This year we introduced you to Star Wars.  Strong with you, the Force is, my son.  You know all of the characters.  You can act out every light saber scene in the movie with precise detail.  I'm pretty sure you'd trade your sister for a pet Wookiee.  You are still very into super heroes, too.  Right now, you really like Batman.  You love to say, "Where does he get those MAGNIFICENT toys?!"


You have loved kindergarten this year.  Your favorite subjects are science, reading, and playing on the playground.  You are quick to point out that you do not like math.  You are reading really, really well, but you still prefer to be read to.  We started reading chapter books at bedtime recently, and you amaze me how well you can remember details of the story night after night.  So far we have only read a few LEGO books and a couple of Magic Tree House books, but I'm excited to open this next phase of reading with you.  So many stories I can't wait to share with you...


Speaking of LEGOs, can I just say that they have taken over our house?  You got a couple of LEGO sets for Christmas...the really serious ones with hundreds of pieces in them.  And you will sit for hours and work on them with laser focus.  We got a pretty heavy snow this winter, and you sat in the floor of the living room for about 7 hours straight working on your Scooby Doo haunted mansion while the snow piled up outside.  There were a few parts that you needed help with, but for the most part, you did it by yourself.  All 800+ pieces of it.  Shortly after you put the last piece in place and we had snapped a few pictures, I caught you rapidly disassembling the house.  Appalled, I asked you what you were doing.  You calmly told me that it was so much fun putting it together the first time, you wanted to take it apart and do it again. 


I never cease to be amazed at you big, big heart.  You really have such compassion and empathy for others.  One day at the library, there was a little boy with Down Syndrome playing near us.  The two of you bonded over his Star Wars shirt and struck up a conversation.  A few minutes later, I noticed that the two of you had disappeared off into a corner together, and you were reading to him.  Another day, Sydney lost a balloon that she had only received a few minutes earlier.  She was heartbroken and was sobbing about her lost balloon.  I noticed that you were crying too.  When I asked you about it, you said you were sad because she was sad and you didn't know how to make her feel better.  Nana had surgery several months ago, and you will still randomly, out-of-the-blue ask to call her and "check on her belly."  Sometimes I worry about how much you see and hear and how it may affect you.  Your ever-watching eyes miss nothing.


Sam, I love watching you run in the backyard with Molly.  I love how you love to go to the movies....it really doesn't even matter what's playing.  I love that your love language is quality time and it just fills your little heart up to play a board game.  I love that sometimes when you ask questions...hard questions...I can tell you've been mulling it over in your mind for a while.  I love that I can see a protector emerging in  you...the way you help your sister and watch out for me.  It makes me sad that you're growing up, but you're doing it so well that I just can't ask you to stop. 


I love you big much,
Mom

Dear Sam,

You are now 5 years old.  I didn't have a chance to get your letter to you on your birthday because we were celebrating in a BIG way.  (I'm over a month late getting your letter to you because...well...that's how I roll these days.  Be grateful I got it written at all.)  You have been planning this birthday for months.  You've been so very excited.  We had a big countdown in the days leading up to your big day.  A few months before your birthday you announced that you wanted a Spiderman birthday party with balloons, a Spiderman cake, and Rescue Bots wrapping paper.  You even had it planned out down to what presents you would get from specific family members. 

This year you started preschool.  I'll admit, I was pretty nervous about it, but you were so very excited.  You never shed a tear...not even on the first day.  You simply gave me a hug and happily trotted off into your classroom.  I managed to keep the tears at bay until I got into the car. 

I can't believe how much your speech has improved.  You tell long, involved, very detailed stories now.  And if I break eye contact with you for even a second during the telling of said story, you have to start over at the beginning. 

You are so hungry to learn.  I mean...you absolutely crave knowledge.  And you're such a pleaser.  One little word of praise, and your whole face lights up.  I'm so excited to see what that combination does for you.  You are so.  stinkin'.  close. to reading.  You insist on me telling you what every sign and label says.  You are constantly telling me, "L is for lollipop, S is for swim, M is for Momo...."  You learned 9 new Bible verses this year.  I think I often don't give you enough credit for what you're capable of...I'm so glad you have teachers at your school who have pushed you to excel.

The one thing you are NOT interested in learning is how to write...or at least write well.  I think it doesn't come easily for you.  I can see you getting frustrated and then your attention drifts away.  You'd much rather recite an entire passage from memory or describe in detail some picture that you've seen. 

You are so full of energy.  I just can't even...  We learned this winter that if you don't get outside for a little while every day, you are much more likely to get in trouble.  God bless your future teachers when the weather is bad.  I feel like some kind of organized sport is in your future for your dad's and my peace of mine...and your safety. 

You grew 4 inches this year.  And I think you gained only 3 pounds.  You aren't so much interested in eating much, which makes you long and lean.  We joke that you eat about every third day or so, so on your "eating days" we try to keep food in front of you all of the time.  You love meatloaf, hot dogs, plain cheeseburgers with nothing on them, all candy, frosting on cakes (you are your mother's son, after all), and pretty much any kind of fruit.  And chocolate milk.  You would drink chocolate milk all day if I would let you.  You have the longest, skinniest legs.  And your feet!  I swear, we cannot keep you in shoes.  You love to tell me, "Someday I'm gonna be as tall as Daddy."  Yep...probably.

Sam, I love how polite you are.  You might not be able to sit still for more than 3 seconds at a time, but you say "please" and "thank you" while you're bouncing off the walls.  I love watching you concentrate as you're studying your Seek and Find books or memorizing every detail of an Avengers book.  I love how you love to play dress up...but only in super hero costumes.  I love that you passed up the opportunity to go the movies (something that I never thought you would do) because you didn't want to go see Cinderella because "that's a girl movie."  I love how when Sydney and I walk into your classroom to pick you up, you proudly announce to your entire class, "Hey everybody!  This is my sister Sydney!" 

I think I've said this every year, but THIS is the year that is the most fun.  I'm so happy I get a front row seat to see you grow up.

Love,
Mom

Dear Sam,

Tomorrow is the day.  Your first day of preschool.  I'm really not sure how this happened, since I'm pretty sure I just gave birth to you yesterday. 

You are SO excited.  We went and toured your classroom and met your teacher a few nights ago.  While we were there, Ms. Brittany had planned a little activity for you and your classmates.  You were supposed to color a little paper person to look like you to identify your spot at the table.  Maggie, the little girl sitting next to you, meticulously colored her paper person's clothes in coordinating shades of pink and purple.  You, on the other hand, reached into the crayon box without looking, grabbed the first crayon your fingers landed on, scribbled across your person's shirt 3 times and declared, "I'm done."  Boys vs girls....

I've thought and thought about what I most want you to remember as you start this new chapter of your life.  I want you to love learning.  I want you to always treat others with the same kindness that I see you exhibiting now.  And I want you to remember that God loves you, just like he loves all of the other children in your class.  And because God loves them (even if they're mean to you), you need to love them too.  It's a hard lesson.  I went to school for a long time, and I've been out of school for a long time, and I STILL struggle with it. 

But I know you can do it, Sam.  You are a big boy for your age, and I've always said it's because you needed a big body for your big heart.  Let yourself love, baby.  It's hard, and sometimes it hurts, but it's ALWAYS the right thing to do.  You have it inside you.  I see it every day when you come hug me for no reason.  When you share with your sister even when she doesn't reciprocate.  When you gently pet the dog.  When you insist that daddy lie in bed and listen to the Eagles at night.  Your ability to love is one of your greatest assets. 

I'm so proud of you.  I can't wait to hear all about your first day...and all of the others after that. 

Love,
Mommy
Romans 12:2

Dear Sam,

This year, you turned 4 years old.

Four.

I'm amazed at how grown up you have become not only in the last year, but especially in the last couple of months.  You reason with us now.  And it actually makes sense.  You will complete a list of tasks without direct supervision.  Sometimes.  You have opinions on everything.  Actually, that's not new.

I have really enjoyed watching you turn into a little boy.  You love to play outside.  You love to run and wrestle and climb and yell and jump off of things.  And mud puddles?  Totally made for splashing.  You're starting to notice other kids more.  When we are at the park, instead of just swinging and sliding by yourself, now you are watching the other (often older) kids and trying to join their groups.  I love seeing your somewhat shy but easy-going, friendly nature come out. 

You have several phrases that aren't quite right that I want to remember.  For example, when you want something you say, "Let I-me have a turn."  When you want to show us something I hear, "You better take a yook at 'dis."  (I hear that one at least a dozen times a day.)  And now that the weather is warming up you ask Daddy, "Can I mower with you?"

I think some of your favorite toys are your "friends."  Any time we leave the house, you have to take some friends with you.   A little while ago, I had to enact a "2 friend rule" because you were about to need a duffel bag to carry all of your stuff.  It's so funny to see you standing over the bin that we keep them in, trying to decide which ones to take.  You're also really into super-heroes right now.  Recently, Daddy bought you some Captain America pajamas.  That night, I overheard you whispering to the cat, "Look Ollie.  I'm Captain America!" 

You have some funny little routines, too.  You like to help me wake Sydney up in the mornings.  I have always sung a little good morning song to you when I wake you up, and it's so sweet to hear you burst into her room singing the song, then ask her, "Did you have a good rest?"  A little while ago, we started having tea parties with our worst British accents while you were in the bathtub.  Now we simply cannot take a bath without drinking some tea.  And we always seem to spill some.  Oh dear!  It always results in fits of giggles.  And shortly after we got a minivan, you decided that you were the official door opener and closer.  Heaven help us if I rush the process.

Every night before you go to bed you give me a hug and a kiss, a zerbert on each cheek, then I give you one, and you whisper, "I....love....you!" while pointing at your eye, then your heart, then me.  I'm not even really sure how this became our routine.  It just did.  But now you can't go to bed without that.  And if anything gets out of order, the whole process has to start from the very beginning. 

You have a memory like a steel trap.  Seriously, you. do. not. forget. ANYTHING.  A couple of weeks ago, we were running some errands and we were stopped at a stoplight.  You told me, "Mom, there are 3 paths.  If we go that way we go to Mommy's work.  That way is the park.  And that way is where we go eat bite-bites."  You were totally right.   One night, you and Sydney could not agree on whose turn it was with one of your friends, so I put them away.  You were devastated.  You asked for them back several times, and I just told you that you could try again in the morning.  The next morning, you woke up and crawled up in my lap, and in a very sad voice asked me, "Mom, may I pleeeeeeease have my friends back now?"  It was literally the first thing you said. 

You are really starting to learn at a phenomenal rate.  You are going to love school this fall.  You have a little alphabet game that you play on the iPad.  You love to tell me, "A is for apple.  C is for cat.  D is for daddy..."  One of these days, I'm going to walk in to find you reading a novel.  And you really impress me with how well you remember your Sunday School lessons.  And while I'm pretty sure you think Moses and Jesus are the same person, I still love to hear your version of the story that you learned every Sunday.  On Easter Sunday, when I picked you up from Sunday school, I asked you what you learned about, and you told me a big rock.  For some reason, the big rock is what stuck with you. 

Daddy has been teaching you how to meet people.  He has told you how important it is to shake someone's hand and look into their eyes.  You make me so proud when you walk up to someone and grab their hand while shouting at them, "Nice to meet you!"  And if that person isn't paying attention, you will assault them to get their hand and shake it. 

My Sam, I love how you ask if you can "snug" with me.  I love that you love to help me in the kitchen.  I love hearing you laugh with sister.  And I love that you are my little boy. 

Mommy

Dear Sam,

Your speech is becoming that of a little boy.  At some point over the last couple of months, your sister's name evolved from Nene to Didjee.  I didn't even notice when it happened, but you almost never say Nene anymore.  While I enjoy understanding you more and being able to converse with you, it makes me a little sad to hear you lose some of your little Sam-isms.  You used to refer to yourself as Nam.  It was so endearing.  But it has become Tsam.  You're so close.  You're learning how our language works.  Sometimes you say something that isn't quite right, and you stop and correct yourself.  You have such a strong desire to be right. 

You're becoming a bit of a picky eater.  I supposed that's normal for a 3 year old, but it's so unlike what we've become accustomed to with you.  Since your first taste of baby food, you've been an courageous eater.  We have never refused to give you any food because we don't like it or we didn't think you would like it.  But lately, you seem to only want hot dogs or macaroni and cheese.  And fruit.  I assuage my fears for your nutrition by reminding myself that you will always choose fruit. 

You're probably going to start preschool in the fall.  I know it's silly of me to dread it, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't...just a little.  You're ready.  You are fascinated with the school bus; every time we see one, you remind me that you want to ride one someday.  You know all of your letters, and you're starting to actually make sense of them.  You crave for information to fill that sponge-like brain of yours. 

You forget nothing.  N-O-T-H-I-N-G.  A couple of months ago, we went to see Frozen at the movies.  Several weeks later, we were playing and I had the radio on the Disney Pandora station.  One of the songs from the movie came one...not even the main theme song...and without missing a beat, you told me, "We went to see this at the movies.  Her name was Elsa.  She ran away."  I just sat there with my mouth hanging open. 

You're becoming such a helper.  You love for me to give you jobs.  You are really good at taking dirty clothes to the hamper, putting your shoes in your closet, and hitting the button to close the door on the van.  But I have to be careful...if something is your job today, I have to be prepared for it to be your job tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.  Most of the time, that's pretty helpful.  But we ran into a little problem after you "helped" me wash dishes in the sink while I was cooking a while back.  For days after that, I would find you in the kitchen standing on your stool in front of a sink full of water. 

You are one of the most thoughtful children I know.  You are quick to give your sister a toy if she is crying.  I can often see the inner turmoil playing out on your face because sharing is hard...but 9 times out of 10 you do the honorable thing and give her a turn.  You continually surprise me with the names you mention during your bedtime prayers.  You just seem to have a heart for those who are hurting. 

Sam, I love how you almost always compliment something about my appearance.  (Mom, I love you pibby neck-yes.)  I love how your wrinkle your eyebrows together when you're concentrating on something.  I love that you can't go to bed without taking at least 15 toys with you.  And you lie in bed and play with them, sometimes for what seems like FOR. EVER. but I know you're really serious about going to sleep when you tuck Pooh up under your chin and give a big sigh.  I love how you will nearly break your neck to get in front of me because you just have to be the one to greet your sister in the morning.  ("Good Morman, Didjee!")

Out of all the little boys, in the whole big wide world, here-there-and-everywhere, I'm so glad YOU are mine,
Mommy

Dear Sam,

Today you are 3 years old.  As I have come to expect, your birthday brings a mixture of feelings to me.  Birthdays are fun.  They are exciting.  They are something to be celebrated.  I love doing special things for you and with you and seeing the joy it brings.  But for me, they are a little bit bittersweet.  Every year when I add another candle to your cake, I am reminded that you are only small for a little while.  I'm trying not to dwell on that, but I've admittedly been a little bit weepy about your birthday for the past few days. 

You are such a fun little guy.  Right now, you love to sing and dance.  You know the words to dozens of songs, even if your dad and I are the only ones who recognize them.  You love any song that has moves or motions to it.  When we wake you up in the morning, you will often sleepily ask to sing the Pooh song.  It has become our routine to sing the song with you while you lie in bed and wake up, and after the song is over you are usually ready to start your day.  You are a bit of a perfectionist, though.  If you mess up the words, you get so upset and insist that we start the song over. 

I love to watch you pretend.  You like to act out scenes from some of your favorite cartoons.  I will often hear you in another room reciting, "To infinity...AND BEYOND!" or "Three, two, one...BLAST OFF!" or something about Boo Boo Chicken.  (I haven't completely figured out what it is that you're saying on that one.)  It's so fun to see you create your own little world.  Sometimes, you catch me watching you, and you immediately flash that shy smile.

You are really getting into "boy stuff."  You will sit in the floor and drive your trucks all over the place while making your truck sounds.  You love your race track with the cars that drive themselves...you ESPECIALLY love it if one cars stalls so that the other one can run over it.  You are becoming more and more interested in superheroes.  Right now Spiderman seems to be your favorite, but that is subject to change at any time.  And you are REALLY into the everyday heroes.  Fire fighters are your absolute favorite.  One morning a few weeks ago, a fire truck passed us with its siren blaring and lights flashing, and I thought you were going to pass out from excitement. 

You will do anything to get to play outside.  Hide and seek is one of your favorite games.  If you are the seeker, you will count while you hold your hands up to your eyes (but not completely covering them).  Then when you finish, you will go find the hider and excitedly yell, "You found me!"  (We still don't have a terrific grasp of pronouns.)  Then you laugh like a crazy person as you order the hider to "Do it 'gain!"  Often, you will tell the hider where they are to hide.  If you are hiding, I will cover my eyes and count, then while I look for you I will call out, "Where is Sam?  Is he under the chair?"  To which I can usually hear you giggle and respond, "Nope!"  After I have looked 2 or 3 places, you usually get tired of waiting for me and you start shouting, "I'm right here, Mom!"

You know a dozen books by heart.  When we tell you to pick out your bedtime story, you will stand in front of your bookcase and thoughtfully consider which one to grab.  Then you curl up in either my lap or Daddy's and often "read" the book to us.  During Goodnight Moon, you like to point out the telephone and the red balloon and the little toy house and the young mouse.  While reading Charlie the Ranch Dog, you yell, "Daisy, nooooooooooooo!!!" when Daisy gets in Momma's garden.  But your Fireman Sam book is the one I most love to hear you read right now.  You sit down with it and announce that you are going to "read dis book."  Then you give a big, "AHEM!" and when you're sure you have everyone's attention you turn to the first page:  "This page blue....This page yellow....This page orange...THE END!"  You are always so proud that you read it all by yourself.

I am so proud of the brother you have become.  You are eager to make your sister smile or laugh---you love it when she reaches for you.  With some gentle reminding, you share your toys well, and you usually don't even protest if she gives one back to you covered in drool.  You love helping me wake her up from her naps; you usually go bounding into her room yelling, "Good mooormin' Nene!"  She is absolutely crazy about you.  Often, if she gets fussy in the car, I will ask you to sing to her so she won't be sad.  For some reason, your song of choice for her is ALWAYS the Itsy Bitsy Spider.  Every .  Single.  Time.  And she ALWAYS stops crying while you're singing to her.

I have to hand it to you...you really know how to play your dad and me.  At night, you will often weasel us into letting you stay up just a little bit later by putting your arms around our necks and asking in a very small, pitiful voice if we can "snug just a minute."  It melts me every time.

My precious Sam, I can't record your stories fast enough right now.  You are such a smart, funny, engaging little boy.  I love your independence.  I love that every night before you go to bed you have to give me a hug, a kiss, an Eskimo kiss, and then a zurbert.  I love how you run jump in Mommy & Daddy's bed and get under the covers and snore so we'll think you're already asleep.  I love how you have to jump (not step) off of any step that every existed anywhere in the entire world.  Ever.  You're all boy, and I love all of you.

Happy birthday,
Mommy

Dear Sam,

A couple of nights ago you were lying on Daddy's and my bed watching cartoons.  That's a relatively new thing for you.  You like to go get on the big bed all by yourself and watch Fireman Sam {Na-nam} or Thomas the Train {Nonus}.  On this particular night, I glanced in there and saw you--stretched out on your belly, feet bent back over your bottom and crossed at the ankles, chin propped in your hands--and I caught my breath.  I was looking at a little boy.  When did that happen?  When did you develop opinions and habits?  When did my baby disappear?  You will often ask to watch cartoons on Daddy's bed, and as you're running to the other room, you'll shout, "C'mon, Momo!  Thomas!" in  your wonderful Sam language.  I know this is only the beginning---soon you and your friends will be running away and having secrets and doing mysterious boy things of which I know nothing---but I can't help but be proud and weepy about it all at the same time. 

I'm so very impressed with the little person you are becoming.  You have such a sweet, gentle nature.  I especially see it in the way you watch out for your sister.  Not too long ago, Sydney was in her crib taking a nap.  I was switching out loads of laundry as she started to wake up.  I decided to go ahead and gather up another load to put in, and by the time I got it all rounded up, she had worked herself into a very impressive fit.  You jumped off of the couch where you were sitting and shouted, "C'mon, Momo!  Baby!" and you took off to investigate.  You stood guard at her bedroom door knocking and pointing until I came to let you in, then you ran to her crib and climbed up on the side, "Baby...wrong?"  It was such an incredibly sweet thing for you to do; in that moment I caught a glimpse of how I hope you'll watch out for her in the future. 

Then, a couple of nights later you asked to hold her, and you insisted on flopping her out of your lap by clotheslining her across her neck.  I'm sure I'll see you do that a time or two in the future, too.

For the most part, though,  you're very concerned about your sister and you show her lots of love.  Every night before you go to bed, you giver her a kiss and tell her goodnight.  You remind me that she is hungry when we get her up from her naps.  You will talk to her when she is fussing in her swing and it honestly makes her belly-laugh.  She loves watching you.  Just the simple act of you making eye contact with her can send her into fits of giggles. 

There are so many things that you do right now that I don't want to forget.  Like the way you kinda grunt before you speak.  Almost like you're announcing that you're getting ready talk so we'll listen up.  "Mmmm...Mom...juice" or "Mmmm...Dada...hold."  Or the way that you ask me to help you sneak up on Daddy every. single. Saturday morning by saying, "Dada...shhh shhh shhh."  Or the way that you go down your slide then jump up and throw your hands in the air and shout, "Ta-da!" and laugh like it's the funniest thing in the world.  Or how you blow the dandelion seeds by picking one and giving a big, "Fffffffffffffff!" and then just plucking them off with your fingers.  Or how you fill your arms full of stuffed animals and toys and books every night at bedtime and you take them and deposit them in your crib.  You literally continue picking things up until you can't hold anything else, and only then are you ready for bed. 

You still have your own little language.  I'm honestly going to be sad when you start properly pronouncing things.  I'll miss you asking me to ho-hold things for you.  My heart will ache when you no longer want to drink chah-malk.  And whether she likes it or not, your sister will forever be called Nene. 

Every day you surprise and amaze me.  I see glimpses of your independence as you insist on running ahead of me or doing a certain task all by yourself.  But just when I think you want nothing to do with me you'll curl up in my lap with a book and ask me to read it for a third time or just come up beside me and lean against my leg.  It cracks me up that you want to help me do certain household chores like switching laundry from the washer to the dryer.  You take great pride in the jobs that you can do alone and you will close the dishwasher door with gusto or proudly pour Molly's dog food all over the bathroom floor then diligently pick it up one piece at a time and put it in her bowl. 

Oh, Sam, I could write an entire novel full of hilarious little Sam stories.  Even on the days that you are very much a two year old, complete with touch-and-go independence and my-way-or-the-highway opinions, you make me just want to wrap my arms around you and hold you forever.  I love seeing the way your eyebrows furrow together when you're trying to figure something out.  I love hearing you shout, "Noooo!" when Daddy tickles your belly, all while you're holding your shirt up so he can get to the really ticklish spot.  I love hearing your feet pound through the house because one thing is for sure--if you're not running, you're just wasting time. 

You, my little boy, have made me question everything I do because I know your eyes are always watching.  Thank you for helping me to be a better person. 

My precious Sam,

Sweet boy, how is it possible that you are two years old?  It can't possibly have been two whole years since that doctor plopped you on my belly and I thought, "What in the world do I do now?"  Back then, I was totally baffled when someone told me I would recognize your cries, know your every need, be able to comfort you when few others could.  But somewhere along the way, it just happened--you taught me how to be a mom.  I love that I can translate what you're saying to others...that you stay close to me when something is unfamiliar...that I get to be the one to put that last kiss on your head at night.

Right now, your favorite things are Legos, blocks, watching Mickey Mouse, Winnie the Pooh, playing outside and Molly.  You still love books, but you don't have the patience to let anyone actually read one to you.  You'd much rather sit and flip through it at your own pace.  Every time you hear the door open, you race towards the freedom that awaits on the other side so you can ride your tractor in the driveway or ring the doorbell on our front door.  But you have the most fun when Molly chases you through the yard and the two of you roll in the mud together.

You are such a busy child.  I've never seen a kid with a longer to-do list than you have.  As soon as your feet hit the floor in the morning you're all over the house looking for some cabinet to open (then slam shut), stairs to climb, drawers to empty or buttons to push.  There's just so much to do!  You will sometimes argue with me when I have the audacity to suggest that you stop long enough to do silly things like eat or take a nap.  But your protests are usually short-lived.  As soon as you finish eating  you shout, "Done!" then remind me to wipe your hands and mouth (lest I should forget) before you try to vault yourself out of your highchair.  When I put you down for a nap you have to have your pillow pets and your stuffed animals arranged around you just so before you lie down and remind me to cover you up with your silky Pooh blanket.  (Good call on buying that, Dad.)

You will still eat almost anything.  There are a few foods that you don't care for their textures and will almost immediately spit them out but you will usually taste just about anything.  You're becoming more independent about feeding yourself, and you have now decided that you no longer require assistance with a fork or spoon.  If it's not something you can feed yourself, you will just refuse to eat it.  Needless to say, we have been cleaning up a lot of messes lately.  Your absolute favorite foods are fruit (of any kind), spaghetti, hot dogs and yogurt.  You love foods that you can "dip-dip" in ketchup (or any condiment for that matter), but really dipping your finger and licking it off is just as good.  You love to drink out of a regular cup, and you will usually abandon your drink for Mom's or Dad's even if everyone is drinking water.  Somehow it just tastes better when you don't have to slurp it through a straw. 

Sometimes I just have to stop and laugh at your boy-ness.  I catch a glimpse of you with your hair plastered to your forehead by sweat, your mud-streaked cheeks, your dirt-crusted fingernails, your skinned-up knees and your black and blue-spotted shins, and I just can't help but marvel at the little boy you have become.  When did it happen?  When did you go from being the baby that wanted to snuggle right up under my chin on my right side to the boy who wants to chase bubbles, roll in the grass and jump off of things?  How did you become the little man who is awestruck by big trucks, will find the tiniest mud puddle to stomp in and gazes longingly at Daddy's tools as if they have magical powers?

My favorite times with you are those times when you completely catch me off guard and remind me to just enjoy life. Like a few weeks ago when I was hurriedly putting your jacket on you so we could leave and you stopped and rested your head on my belly.  Or when you stop to examine what I assume is a weed but to you is the most beautiful flower in the world.  Or the times when I'm holding your hand and you have to stop walking so you can jump with both feet over a crack in the concrete.   Who besides a little boy sees the absolute necessity in that?

Happy birthday, my sweet boy.  This next year will bring a lot of changes for you.  Not only are we adding another member to our family, but every day I see you gaining just a little bit more independence.  I see your easy smile so reminiscent of your dad's; I see your bold, stubborn, I-can-do-it-myself streak that probably came from your mom.  I cannot even imagine what you will be like on this day a year from now, but of one thing I am certain:  I will love you.  Always.

Mommy

Dear Sam,
Today you turned 17 months old.  These days, you are watching and copying and learning at lightning speed, little man.  I think I wake up every morning thinking, "He just can't possibly be any more fun today than he was yesterday," and every day I'm wrong.  I love walking into your room and seeing you peek out at me from between the slats in your crib and then seeing your little blond head pop up over the rail.  You greet me with a smile and a "Mah!" which I tell myself is you saying, "Good morning, Mother.  How are you today?" but it's probably more like, "Hey lady!  Where's Molly?" 

Molly is your absolute best friend.  This has been a bit hard for me to accept because all this time I thought I was your best friend.  I really am, aren't I?  I love to hear you call her.  You put your hand next to your mouth and shout, "Moe Moe!"  When she actually comes to you when you call her, you get so excited you can hardly sit still.  You guys make lap after lap around our house...you doing your stomp-crawl with Molly right behind you, nipping at your heels.  Every now and then you will stop and sit up so she can plant a big wet one right on your mouth.  This makes you laugh your delightful baby little boy laugh, and then you're back at it again. 

Tonight, you and Molly got one of the cats cornered.  Molly was barking at the cat, and you started barking with her.  You could hardly breathe because you were laughing hysterically in between barks.  If it hadn't been for me being afraid that the cat would claw your eyes out, I would have let you do it all night because it was just too stinkin' funny. 

Your vocabulary has really exploded lately.  You have this whole Samonese language that you speak.  If I'm being honest, I kinda love the fact that your dad and I are the only ones who really know how to speak it.  When we say our prayers, you always fold your hands and sit quietly while we talk to God.  Then when we're done you shout, "May-man!"  And you love to read, but I really think you just like to read the last page.  That way you can slam the book shut and say, "the end" which comes out sounding more like "nah nah."  You frequently ask to go outside, "goahshide?" and you can tell us when you want something to drink, "noon."  (I really have no idea where noon came from, but it's clearly, "May I please have something to drink".)  With some serious prompting, you will say love you, "la la la."  But I think the thing that you say most clearly is bye bye.  You.  Love.  Going.  Bye bye.  From the time you wake up, you're asking to go bye bye.  And as soon as we start making our way towards the door, you wave to whomever is looking and yell, "GO BYE BYE!!!!" at the top of your lungs. 

You also know a little bit of sign language.  You can ask for more and say all done.  We're working on please and thank you, but they're a work in progress. 

You are becoming so affectionate these days.  Just this week, you and I were grocery shopping and you suddenly reached out to me for a hug.  I leaned down and hugged you, but when I went to raise up you grabbed my neck a little bit tighter.  I thought about it for about 1/2 second and decided that we'd stay that way as long as you needed to.  We literally stood in the middle of the shampoo aisle just holding each other for several minutes.  Every now and then you would gently pat my back and softly say, "Mah."  It's a moment I hope I remember forever. 

Oh, my sweet Sam.  Right now I'm wanting to write down every single thing you do and say.  I don't want to forget a single story.  You're growing up so quickly that you're not even the same from day to day right now.  It seems with every sunrise there's a new word, a new skill.  And while I'm so proud of you and I'm honestly enjoying seeing you grow into a little boy, I just want to freeze time and hold you close to me forever.  You make me smile easier and laugh longer. 

I love you so very much,
Mommy

Dear Sam,

I really hadn't planned on continuing these letters after your first birthday, but you're just doing so many funny things these days!  I can't stand the thought of not remembering these moments, and I know what few brain cells I have left are already at full capacity. 

You still refuse to walk.  You have successfully scaled the couch from the floor all the way to the top (true story), but you refuse to stand up and put one foot in front of the other.  For the first 6 or 9 months of your life, I really worried about your milestones.  I mean...we want the kid who sets the curve, right????  But you have continually reminded me that you will do things on your own timetable, and I think I have finally accepted that.  Now I realize that you are just that kid.  You are the kid who, when you are 17 years old, I will be saying, "Sam, you have a 12 page research paper due tomorrow morning.  Don't you think you should at least be starting it?" and as you roll your eyes you will be like, "Mom, that's 12 hours from now.  That's, like, an hour per page.  Chill."  Perhaps if I prepare myself for it now I will require fewer Rolaids when we actually have that conversation. 

You are so fun to talk to these days.  You are really trying to mimic the sounds we make, and if we throw you a curve ball, you scrunch your eyes together and slowly move your tongue and lips trying to figure out how to make that sound.  Lately, your favorite sound is the "la" sound.  You make it all day.  With much exaggeration and flair, you stick your tongue out as far as you can (Gene Simmons style) and yell, "La la la la la!!"  Then, just to make sure everything is working properly, you grab your tongue and hold on to it for a while.  We have been practicing saying, "La la love you!" at night, and you will give us night-night kisses then sing, "La la la!"  Then you will usually applaud your vocal expertise. 

We've also been practicing your animal sounds.  So far, you will moo like a cow, bark like a dog, meow like a cat (or scream...either one works), "Pbbbb" like a horse and "Sssss" like a snake.  I'm pretty sure a visit to a petting zoo is in order soon (sans the snakes, that is).

You love to help me in the kitchen.  When I'm cooking, you usually occupy yourself by emptying the pantry shelves of their contents and scattering them across the kitchen floor.  Kool Aid packets, spice bottles, boxes of Jell-O...nothing is safe from your scrutiny.  After you're finished with those, you move on to the Tupperware drawer.  Apparently, my organization system of nesting the smaller bowls inside the larger ones doesn't really work for you.  You take out every bowl and lid then put about half of them back in the drawer upside down and sideways while the others remain strewn across the floor. 

Your dad has taught you how to flop, and now that's one of your favorite things.  We put you on the bed with us, and you raise up on your knees then FLOP down face-first and laugh hysterically.  Flopping by yourself is fun, but the REAL fun begins when Daddy picks you up and flops you.  I really think if we could put you in a big, padded room, you would starve to death because you would never ever stop flopping to come out and eat. 

Speaking of eating, I think if we would let you, you would eat nothing but fruit.  You LOVE fruit!  Mandarin oranges, strawberries, cantaloupe, bananas, grapes, watermelon, cooked apples and pears, pineapple...it really doesn't matter to you.  During meal times, we have to keep any fruit concealed and out of sight until you have eaten a sufficient amount of other-food-group foods or it's game over. 

You're very interested in my teeth.  When I'm holding you, you will poke and prod with your fingers trying to get them in my mouth and hooked on my bottom front teeth.  Then you laugh your delightful baby laugh because noodling Mommy is funny!  But for some reason, it's Daddy's ears that fascinate you.  Seriously, you will literally grab his cheeks and turn his head so you can get your fingers in his ears.  I'm pretty sure you're just trying to help him clean them out so he can be cured of his selective hearing loss.  You know...the one that seems to kick in the most during a ballgame.

Sam, you bring so much joy and laughter into our lives.  I love watching you as you figure things out.  Your sweet, loving nature and your big, open-mouthed smile absolutely make my day.  I am loving watching you grow up...I just wish you would do it a little slower.

Please just think about being my little boy forever,
Mommy

Dear Sam,

Has it already been a year? I am sitting here marveling at how things have changed since you came crashing into our lives. I'm still amazed at the way God took what started out as just another normal day, transformed it into a sitcom-worthy birth, saw us through two of the most difficult weeks your dad and I have ever faced, and somewhere along the way made us what we are now: a family. We're not perfect, but we're perfect together. You are so much more than we could ever have hoped for or imagined. Your unique personality shines through a little more each day, and I'm loving getting to know the fascinating kid that you are.

Right now you are crawling everywhere. I mean, EVERYWHERE! You have this inherent sense of what you're not supposed to have, and you crawl directly towards that object.

Oh...look! The toilet seat is up! I should go check it out! Hey! A diaper pail! Why would I play with any of the 5,000 toys that litter my bedroom floor when there's this AWESOME diaper pail to get my hands all over?!

I can't believe how fast you are. Seriously, I have tried to crawl around and keep up with you, and I just can't do it! I think it might be because I don't yell when I crawl. Apparently, the louder you yell, the faster you can crawl. You start out at a low "Oooh, ooh, ooh," accentuating a new syllable every time your hands slap the floor. Then as you accelerate, you get louder and louder until you're at full speed yelling,

"WHOA, WHOA, WHOOOOOOOOOAAAAAA!"

I guess it's a good thing you do this because it gives the cats fair warning that you're on your way.

You're also pulling up on things more and more. You discovered the piano last week. You crawled over to it, pulled up, and played a few notes of the Sambo Concerto. Then you turned and looked at me like you had just discovered the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I have a feeling we're going to be hearing you develop your musical abilities more and more.

You have started sleeping on your belly. Pretty much since the first day you were really crawling, you stopped sleeping on your back. For a couple of days, you refused to lie down at all and you would often fall asleep sitting straight up against the crib or folded in half because you simply couldn't stay awake for one more second. Now you will often roll up on your right side when we put you in your crib, but sometime in the night you get on your belly and stick your butt high up in the air. It's pretty funny because you no longer wake up with that fresh, bright-eyed look but your eyes are all swollen and your face has mattress creases on it.

You're starting to say a couple of words. You will address me as "Mah" and Daddy as "Dah". You will blow kisses with a lot of prompting. You get so excited when Daddy gets his Tickle Fingers out and starts counting, "One...Twooooooooooo........" You know what's coming as soon as he yells, "THREE!" and you will usually tense up and try to hide all of your tickle spots. You have a little basketball goal that cheers for you when you score, but you have figured out that you only have to hit the lever on the inside of the goal, so you will often just sit and hit the button, then clap when it cheers for you.

This year I have learned a number of lessons--some of them easy, some of them not so easy. I can change a diaper in less than a minute. I know just where to kiss the bottoms of your feet to make you howl with laughter. I have learned how to look the other way when Daddy gives you sugar-laden treats. But I think the biggest and most difficult realization I have had is that there is this thing called control...and I am not in it.

I love how you pass the time when we're grocery shopping by "scaring" me every time I have my back turned. I love the way you cross one foot over the other when you snuggle in the recliner with Daddy. It cracks me up when you take your food out of your mouth, examine it, then put it back in your mouth and finish chewing it. I even love your lightening quick temper and complete absence of patience because I know you come by them both honestly. But most of all I love how you will reach for me with both arms and then laugh and give me one of your open-mouthed kisses when I pick you up.

Sam, I feel like we've already read a whole novel about your life, but the truth is I've only seen the first chapter. Your story is just being written; your pages are blank. While I can't write it, I'm privileged to be able to help you edit a bit here and there. The world is a happier, albeit messier, place with you in it.

Happy birthday, my sweet boy!

Mommy

Dear Sam,

Today you are 11 months old. I'm sure your dad will roll his eyes when he reads this, but I get a little teary-eyed when I think that after this month I will probably no longer refer to your age in months. After this month, you will be a one-year-old. Oh, sure...for a couple of months, I will probably hang on to it and say, "He's 13 months" or "He's almost 15 months" but all too soon I will lose track, and you will simply be "One." I'm so proud of the little boy you are becoming, but it makes me a little sad to see my baby changing so quickly. Some nights I feel like I shouldn't even go to sleep because when I wake up, you will have packed your things and moved off to college.

This month, you learned how to throw a temper tantrum. Honestly, it is impressive to see how quickly you can turn it on when I tell you that you cannot, in fact, eat that dust bunny. Or pour your juice in the floor. Or put that used diaper wipe in your mouth. Or play in the fireplace. Seriously, dude, did you have any idea that your mother was going to be so UNREASONABLE about things?!

It is getting more and more difficult to change your diapers. Not only do you try to crawl away before I can get the job finished, but on those rare occasions that I can actually get you to lie on your back for more than 30 seconds, you are busy trying to check your manhood to make sure it hasn't fallen off or anything. I continually reassure you that no man in the history of the world has lost one without some assistance, but you are nothing if you are not thorough. As soon as I get your diaper off, you do your Man Check, then you're off! And suddenly we're like those calf roping competitions at the rodeo. But instead of a cowboy it's me. And instead of a calf, it's a naked butt. And instead of a rope, it's a Pampers Cruisers diaper.

You are still so in love with the dog and the cats. I thought maybe it was just ours because they're always around, but you recognize other dogs and smile your big Sam Smile when you see them. A couple of weeks ago, we dropped Maddie off to get a haircut, and the groomer's dog was milling around in the lobby. As soon as you saw her, you started bouncing and yelling at her. It's funny to hear you talk to the cats. You squeal this super-duper high-pitched squeal whenever you see them. At first I thought it was just excitement, but you only do it to the cats...not the dog...and now I think you might be trying to meow at them.

Your favorite word has become "dada." You talk about dada all day. When you're playing, it's dada. When you're splashing in the bath tub, it's dada. When you're eating, it's dada. But when you're crying and upset about something, it's "Maaaah mah!" I'm not entirely sure that you really mean Mommy or Daddy when you say these things, but Daddy is convinced that you know he's the fun one.

Feeding you has become a bit more difficult now. Not only are you starting to have opinions about what you eat, you are so willing to share! If I give you something that you don't like, you shake your head at me. If I try to give it to you again, you will usually obediently open your mouth, then spit the food right back out at me. I can always tell when you're getting full because you start dropping your food in the floor...then you lean over the arm of your highchair to see who will come lurking around to clean up after you. Maddie especially likes it when we feed you ham, but she's really not too picky about her Hoovering.

Sam, how in the world did we get blessed with you? You have brought more joy and laughter to our home than I ever thought possible. Sometimes I ask your dad if he thinks you know how much we love you. He always smiles and says, "Yeah, I think he does" but I still can't tell you enough. I love the way your lips curve up in a slow, sly smile when we're just having a little chat. I love the way you lean into my chest and pat my shoulder when I tell you to love mommy. I love how you pat your chest instead of waving bye-bye. You are such a unique and special kid.

Mommy

Dear Sam,

You must have woke up one morning this month and thought to yourself, "Hey, I'm almost 10 months old. I'd better start learning some things." You have been so much fun this month because your brain is like a giant sponge, just waiting to soak up everything around you. Every time you pick up on something new, your eyes light up and you seem so proud of yourself. I hope learning is always this fun and exciting for you.

I think your biggest accomplishment this month is that you're now mobile. I wouldn't exactly call what you do crawling. While you are starting to get on your hands and knees and get everybody moving together on occasion, you more often prefer to just slither like a snake. You're pretty sneaky about it, too. I can put you in the floor surrounded by your toys, and within seconds, you're across the room headed towards something you're not supposed to have. It's so funny to see your little butt wiggling back and forth. You throw in a few grunts for good measure, and bada bing, bada boom! Before I know it, you've found a dust bunny to eat.

You have also started clapping this month. Whenever you do something that you feel is applause-worthy, you crack a big grin and clap your chubby little hands. I picked up a Cheerio with my thumb and fore-finger and successfully got it in my mouth. Yayyyy!!! A couple of days ago, I was walking on the treadmill and you were playing in your Exersaucer. Every couple of minutes you would stop what you were doing, look over at me and clap for me. One week, you kept all of the people around us in church distracted entertained by clapping for them.

We're working on waving, but it's still pretty sporadic. Every night, we wave bye-bye to Maddie and the cats as we make our way to your bedroom. You give Daddy a kiss and wave to him. Finally, when we get to your room, we wave to Geronimo, your giant giraffe. Sometimes during this little routine, you actually wave, but most of the time it's just Mommy. While I can't get you to wave on command, you will randomly wave at some non-existent person while we're playing and say, "Bah."

You're getting better at communicating. Last week, Daddy was pulling you around the block in your wagon, and we stopped for just a minute. When we looked back at you, you were lunging forward in the wagon. We could almost hear you saying, "Go, Daddy, go!" You're also shaking your head "no" these days, but we're not sure it always means no. Sometimes it's just you being silly, and when someone nods their head back at you, you collapse in a fit of giggles...and then clap for the wonderful game. You tell us you're sleepy by patting your head. I know when you start rubbing your hair, I'd better find a place to put you down...FAST!

Sam, I love your sweet, gentle nature. I love that when I walk in the door in the evenings, you smile at me and clap for me. I love that you don't yet know how to judge others so you bless everyone who speaks to you with that smile that goes all over your face, no matter who they are or how they're dressed. I love finding new things that make you laugh like shaking my head and flopping my hair or just bouncing a tennis ball on the floor. (One night Daddy was blowing on your hair and making it stand up, and I thought you were going to pass out you were laughing so hard.) Your sweet smile and contagious laugh can melt away even the coldest of bad days.

I love you, my baby boy!

Mommy

Dear Sam,




I'm just going to have to stop blinking because every time I do, you age another month. I'm sitting here trying to remember all of the new things you've learned, the funny things you've done, the little Sam-isms that are starting to emerge, and my mind is spinning. Wasn't it just yesterday that I walked into the doctor's office and with a dazed look told the receptionist that I thought my water broke? You are growing and changing so fast I'm finding it hard to keep up.




You're starting to mimic us now. It's so funny to see what you latch onto. The things that we try to get you to repeat, you're not interested in. But then you'll randomly pick up something that we do, and you're so proud of yourself when you do it too. A couple of weeks ago, Daddy had a cold and he coughed almost nonstop. For some reason, you thought it was hilarious, and you were pretty sure he was doing it solely for your entertainment. Now if someone so much as clears their throat around you, you will usually give a little cough then follow it up with a big, cheesy grin.



You're also talking all the time now. You're favorite word is "Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo." We've repeated "mama" and "dada" until we're blue in the face, but those just aren't words you want to say right now. When you're feeling really fancy, you'll say "blah, blah, blah" then usually follow it up with a long and messy, "Thhhhhhhbbbbbbbbbbbb." Again, when you finish your little speech, you always look around like you're waiting for the applause to begin. I love watching you when you're in the middle of your little soliloquies. You clasp your hands together and furrow your eyebrows like you're concentrating on getting the words just right.



You are so close to crawling! I thought for several days that you were about to figure out how to just scoot on your bottom, but now you're back to trying to put your hands down and get your knees under you. We've been trying to entice you by putting your favorite toys just out of your reach, but you usually just entertain yourself with your feet or your hands if you don't have any toys. So I tried a new strategy. We put a few of your guilty pleasures just out of your reach: my cell phone and the TV remote. You stretched as far as you could to get them, and then when you couldn't reach them you looked at me with the most hurt look and started to cry. Good job, Mom.



Your 4th tooth just started to pop through yesterday. We have been able to see a little white spot there for several days, but yesterday was the first day I actually felt something sharp there. This tooth doesn't seem to have been as traumatic as the others. We have, thankfully, avoided the runny nose & fussiness that seem to have accompanied the other three. I'm hoping now that you're an old pro at this teething thing, maybe the rest will be all downhill.




You are also EXTREMELY ticklish! It has become one of our favorite games. Daddy or I will hold our hands out in front of you while we're looking for your most vulnerable spot. You know what's coming and you usually can't even contain the giggles until the tickling starts. As soon as you see the hands looming above, you burst into a laugh-so-hard-you-can't-catch-your-breath fit.



It's amazing to me how proud I am of you. I mean, I always knew we would have the cutest and the smartest kid, but I completely underestimated just how cute and how smart you would be. I can be in the middle of a completely terrible day, but someone asks me about you and I immediately break out into yet another story about you. "Guess what Sam did last night? He ate green beans! I've never seen a child eat green beans the way he does." While I'm sure everyone at work is probably tired of hearing every tiny little detail of your life, they are at least kind enough to smile and endure my stories.



Sam, one of my favorite things about you is that you're teaching me so much. You're showing me how to chill out and just enjoy the messiness of life. You're teaching me that it doesn't matter if there are dust bunnies running across my floor because there are games to be played and songs to be sung. I'm learning that it really doesn't matter if I snuggle all day with you instead of going to the grocery because you know what? Pizza Hut delivers. Thank you for being such a patient and understanding teacher.



You and your dad are my smile,

Mommy

Dear Sam,



I'm sorry your letter is a little late this month. We went to Western Kentucky this weekend for Christmas with the Spillmans, and between getting everything ready for that trip and the craziness of the weekend, your letter got lost in the shuffle.



You have been so incredibly fun this month, and you've added several skills to your repertoire. I think I'm most excited that you learned how to give kisses this month. Daddy or I will stand you on our lap and say, "Give me kisses" then say, "Mmmmmmmmm-WHAW!" You get very still and lean in to give us a big open-mouthed kiss. Sometimes the stars all line up right and you even grab our cheeks to give us a kiss. Then we cheer for you and you laugh your belly laugh because kisses are funny! I could play this game with you for hours, but usually the dog has to come see what you're laughing about, and as soon as she comes into sight you forget all about kissing Mommy.



You really like to sing, too. Because it's the Christmas season, you and I have been singing Christmas songs. While I have always favored the slower-tempo, more meaningful Christmas songs in the past, this year we're singing the upbeat songs a lot because they seem to be your favorites. A lot of times, just as I'm getting to the good part of Jingle Bells, you'll jump in and sing with me.

Blah, blah, blah, blah. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

I'm pretty sure you have a musical career in your future.



Your third tooth is almost completely through, and you're biting everything. The tray on your highchair looks like it fought a werewolf and lost. As soon as we put you in your carseat, you start gnawing on the strap. You'll lean in like you're going to give me a hug then bite my shoulder instead. (And I'm such a sucker for your hugs, I fall for it every time.)



Your hair sticks up in the back just like Alfalfa. It's kinda become your trademark. Everywhere we go, someone always comments on your wild hair. I have to admit, it's so you, I'm just not sure I want it to lay down.



Sam, I love watching you explore our world and seeing it through your eyes. Every day brings a new experience, a new skill, a new reason to laugh. Every morning I get a smile and every night I get to snuggle you close. I couldn't ask for a better Christmas present.

I love you always and forever,
Mommy

Dear Sam,

We have increased your clothing size...again. As I was getting your new clothes washed and your old clothes stored away, I felt a touch of sadness. Of course, I'm glad that you're so healthy, but I just feel like you're growing up way too fast. I want to freeze time for a few minutes and hold on to these moments for a little bit longer.

This month, you started making the transition from baby to toddler. You are so into what's going on around you. I mean, you don't miss a thing! If something behind you makes the tiniest noise, you whip your head around to see what's happening on the other side of the room. This makes mealtimes pretty interesting, because Mom is usually trying to hit a moving target. You obediently open your mouth for every single bite...you just have a hard time holding your mouth still. You're far too busy leaning over the arm of the highchair and turning around backwards to see what the dog is doing. But woe be unto the person who doesn't feed you fast enough! If the rhythm of spoon to mouth gets interrupted, you are one unhappy little boy.

You love to eat. So far, you have tried green beans, peas, squash, carrots, sweet potatoes, pears and bananas. You haven't refused anything we have offered you. I love to watch you as you try that first bite of something new. You make the funniest faces! You will purse your lips and scrunch your eyebrows as you contemplate the new taste...then you will open your mouth wide for another bite.

You have this uncanny ability to know exactly what you're not supposed to have. If we go out to eat, you will usually play very nicely with your toys...until the sharp knives and hot plates come out. Then you turn into an octopus. You think glasses offer a much better perspective if they have your fingerprints all over them. And I just know that one day soon you're going to get a handful of cat tail. I keep telling them that they shouldn't tempt you, but so far nobody is taking me seriously. You don't really want to hold your bottle, though. I have, on several occasions, tried to show you how to work it, but we usually just end up making a mess. You much prefer for me to hold it while you eat, and you reward my efforts by gently patting my cheeks. On second thought, let's just leave that little routine alone, shall we?

Your daddy is frantically trying to get you to say, "Dada." Every night you sit in the recliner with him while he chants "Da da da da da da da." You usually answer him with "Ppppllllbbbbbbbb" which really means, "Mom is my favorite." (At least that's what you told me...)

This year, with Thanksgiving just around the corner, I have so much to be thankful for. I'm thankful for the way you wake up happy & chatter to your Pooh bear until someone comes to get you. I'm thankful for the way your hair sticks up at your crown no matter how often I comb it down. I'm thankful for the way you greet anyone who speaks to you with a smile. I'm thankful for the way you snuggle your head on my shoulder and let me rub your back when you're sleepy. I'm thankful for the times that you laugh so hard you can't catch your breath.

I'm so glad I get to be your mommy.

Dear Sam,

Happy Half Birthday! Six months ago, I had no idea what kind of ride we were getting ready to go on. It has had its share of ups and downs, but I don't think I would change anything. Even those first few weeks, as difficult as they were, taught me some important lessons and forced me to make some changes. I learned that parenting is a two-man job, and sometimes I just have to let the other man have a turn. I learned that I can't control everything, no matter how much I have planned or researched. (Actually, that one may still be a work in progress.) Somewhere along the way, I learned how to be a mommy. For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing at exactly the right time.

This month, we started you on solid food. On your 5 month birthday, we gave you cereal for the first time. We were shocked at how quickly you took to eating with a spoon, and you already prefer eating cereal to taking a bottle. During the day, you will almost refuse a bottle...you've just got too much to do! But when you first wake up in the morning and right before you go down for the night, you're just snuggly enough to settle into my arms and be my baby for a little bit longer.

You have also discovered....

TOES!!!

The first time you got your big toe in your mouth, you looked at me like, "What's this? A toe? Oh my gosh...it's wonderful!! Why have you been keeping these delectable little chubbies a secret from me?!" Toes are delicious, and what's better, they're almost always accessible. With the recent chill in the air, I've been putting socks on you, and you really don't seem to appreciate that very much. You can't get to those yummy toes! You lie in the floor and grasp, squirm, grunt and pull until you finally get your sock off...and then you reward yourself with a big ol' mouth full of phalangeal food.

You're starting to sit up on your own. I'll put you down and position your feet almost Indian-style to give you the best balance. You will hold steady for a few seconds then slooooooowly bend forward until you're folded in half. Sometimes you sway back and forth like a little drunk man, and you think it's hilarious when you flop over and mom or dad catches you. Your eyes are losing their blue color, too. Some days I think they'll be brown like your daddy's, and other days I think they look a little greenish like mine. I secretly hope you have your daddy's eyes because they're one of my favorite things about him, but whichever you choose will be beautiful, I'm sure.

You got your first tooth this month. You worked really hard for that tooth. I think at one point or another over the weeks preceding its appearance, you experienced almost every possible symptom of teething. While we gave you a variety of teething rings and toys to chew on, you really just preferred someone else's finger. Then, last weekend you were just not yourself. I started poking around in your mouth only to find a SECOND tooth trying to poke its way through. Keep up the good work, buddy. I promise corn on the cob really is worth all the trouble.

You've become very grabby. You. Grab. Everything. When you're eating, you try to grab the cereal bowl. When I pick you up, you grab a hand full of my hair. When Daddy is holding you in the recliner, you grab his nose. The cat walked past you a few days ago, and you almost got his tail. However, when I want you to grab and hold on, you don't. Most babies instinctively hold on when they're being held on someone's hip. Not my laid back boy! You spread your arms out like an eagle and leeeeeaaaaaann back because hey...mom's got this covered, right?

Sam, I swear you make me smile just by looking at you. At least once a day, your dad or I will say, "How can he be so funny when he's not even doing anything?" I love seeing your face light up when you greet us. It's like you have unexpectedly run into a long lost friend. I get home at the same time every night, but the surprise and joy on your face is always new. You can melt away the remnants of even the worst day and make everything seem right again.

"I love you" just doesn't seem to cover it,

Mommy

Dear Sam,

Tonight you fell asleep in my arms. Ordinarily if you doze off while I'm holding you, I get up and put you in your bed, but tonight I just sat and rocked you. Your face was so peaceful, and you smelled so good after your bath. Your hair sticks up over your left temple all of the time now. I wonder if it's a cowlick that you'll have forever. I can already see myself grabbing you and trying to spit-comb it down before family photos...before you walk out for your graduation...on your wedding day. But for now, I'm happy to just let it stick up.

While we were sitting here rocking, I gently caressed your little hand, and you grabbed my finger. You never even flinched--it was completely unconscious. You just sighed and settled down into my arms a little deeper. I love that you need me even when you're asleep.

You're getting so long that your legs dangle over my thigh when I'm holding you. I can't believe how fast you're growing. But no matter how long or tall you get...no matter how much you tower over me or outweigh me...I will always have room in my heart for you.

Dear Sam,

Are you already 5 months old??? I feel like I start so many of your letters with, "Are you already x months old?" but time is just slipping away so quickly. It seems like yesterday that I was wandering around Lexington in a total fog because I'd decided to take just one more test. Someday I'll tell you more about it, but I had all but given up on ever getting you without medical intervention. I can't believe that a full year has passed since that day that I told your dad I thought I was pregnant. I can still see his look of bewilderment, then deer-in-the-headlights, then sheer joy.

You had your first cold this month. I was hoping it was just allergy symptoms with the changing of the seasons, but after a couple of days, I could no longer deny that your snottiness was caused not by some pollen and ragweed, but by a nasty little virus. On top of that, we took you for your four-month shots, which made you feel loads better, I'm sure. You're generally such a happy, smiley baby, but during those days when you were sick, I'd talk to you, sing to you, make silly faces at you...anything to get you to smile...and you would smile for about a half-second then your face would crumple into a wail. You'd stick your bottom lip out and let out your hallmark Samuel Squawk. We spent a lot of time with the booger-sucker, or as you like to call it, The Instrument of Torture. You think it's child abuse really like it as evidenced by your incessant screaming shouts of joy! In fact, I've sucked so much snot from your nose with it that now when you see it, you immediately put your arms up over your nose so I can't get to it, and if I try to pull your arms down you start your hiss-and-spit-like-a-cat-in-a-fight routine that you do when you're mad...which is really hilarious, by the way. So, now that we've had a cold and recovered successfully, I think your immune system has had enough practice. We know you're able to defeat those nasty little bugs, so we talked about it and we both agreed that you're not going to get sick anymore.

You're really coming into your own as a little person. Your personality is so laid back and chilled out. Just a few weeks ago, we were shopping in hhGregg, which is what I call a boy store. Your dad calls it an oasis of "cool stuff" in a technology desert. Anyway, we're in there browsing around, and I look down in time to see you all kicked back in your stroller with your feet propped up on the safety bar, and you're completely engrossed in watching all of the televisions. I mean, eyes glazed over, mouth slightly open, not responding to me when I speak, captivated. When I finally squatted down in front of you so you were forced to look at me, I was rewarded with the biggest grin and a sweet giggle. Mom, this stuff is so cool!

Speaking of giggling, that's about all you do these days. (Sometimes you even do it while you're sleeping.) Daddy bought you a little lion rattle as an afterthought one day when we were out shopping. You think it's just the funniest thing. It's a ring with a lion head and a fuzzy mane on one side, and a little floppy tail on the other. You can do all kinds of cool things with that rattle. It's fun to chew on his head. His tail is just perfect for little hands to grab onto. And it's really funny when the lion sneaks up from behind you, jumps in front of your face and says, "Raaarr!" That's when he gets the belly laughs. With as much as you like to be startled, I'm afraid you will have your dad's love for scary movies.

On September 8th, I put you down for some belly time. You have never really liked belly time, and you usually avoid it by rolling up on your side. On this particular night, you rolled up on your side and just kept on rolling! I'm pretty sure it was an accident because you looked just as surprised as I was. I played it off as a fluke, but I knew you were close to doing it on purpose. Just two days later, I put you on your belly and went into the kitchen for just a second. When I came back, you were on your back! When you roll over, you usually look a little scared until we cheer, then you smile and laugh.

You're also getting much better with your hand control. It's so funny when I hold a toy in front of your face. You wrinkle your eyebrows, purse your lips, and reach your hands out to grab it. You have this thing you do where you hold your right thumb with your left hand and reach out the fingers of your right hand...almost like your using one hand to guide the other. Your daddy thinks it's quite ingenious and is a sign of your brilliance.

You're becoming fascinated with the dog and cats. You especially think it's funny when Maddie goes berserk over your lizard. You see, Maddie doesn't seem to mind most of your toys. Your kicktoy that sings and lights up? Nothing. The alligator on the exersaucer that yells shapes and colors? Zilch. The globe that says the abc's and plays jungle music? Uh-uh. But that darn lizard!!! Maddie could be in the middle of one of her hibernating, deep-throat snoring, dead to the world naps, but you bounce on the exersaucer and make that lizard sing the Primary Colors Song, and she comes tearing through the living room, barking like crazy. Alert! Alert! We're under attack by an annoying, singing lizard!!! You usually pause just long enough to observe all of the commotion, shoot me an impish little grin, and give another big bounce.

Sam, I think I've smiled more in the last 5 months than I did in the last 5 years combined. I love your sweet, open-mouthed grins and your funny, donkey-like guffaws. I love the way your butt sticks out if I pick you up and put you on my shoulder while you're sleeping. I love the way you yell when I'm changing your diaper. I love how you hold my hands so tightly when I'm feeding you. I love all of these things and a million other little things about you that I've memorized without even realizing it. My days are so much sweeter with you in them.

Mommy

Dear Sam,



I love to hear you laugh. It's one of my favorite sounds. One thing that amazes me about it is that you have different laughs depending on what kind of mood you're in. Sometimes it's a typical, high-pitched baby laugh. Sometimes it's a delayed reaction kind of thing where I do something that I know you like, and you stare at me for a few seconds, then wrinkle your nose up and almost snort like a pig. Other times I'd call it more of a shout. You throw your head back and let out what can only be described as a bark of laughter. You and Daddy called and left a voicemail on my phone a few days ago. In the recording, he was getting your piggies, and you were laughing like a crazy person. I don't think I'll ever erase it from my phone. It brings a tear to my eye and a smile to my face every time I listen to it.


You crack me up when you sneeze. You almost sound like an old man because you let out a loud "AAAH" followed by a quiet and polite "choo". Like everything else, you do it with gusto.


I can't believe how you're growing. You're almost too long for your swing, which makes me a little sad because you love it so much. Your feet sit just at the edge right now, and I just know before long they'll be hanging off the end. For some reason you have decided that you don't really like to rock anymore, but you love to sit out on the back porch and swing...which is just fine by me because I love that, too. I wonder what we'll do when it gets too cold to do that, though. I'm already mentally rearranging the living room so we can just bring it inside and swing in front of the fire at night.


You love when we sing songs to you. You focus so hard, it's like you're trying to memorize the words. I love the face you make when you're really concentrating on something. You wrinkle your eyebrows and make a big "oh" with your mouth, and usually you fold your hands just under your chin.


Speaking of your hands, you have discovered that you can clasp them, and you act like you think you have to hold onto them or they'll run away. You hold them together to chew on them, when you're eating, you even rub your eyes with them folded together when you're tired. About the only time we can get you to separate them is when we clap your hands to play patty-cake...which you really love. You've also started trying to reach out and grab things...which is a bit difficult to do when your hands are clasped. If I dangle a toy over your head, you stare at it and slooooooooowwwwwly reach out your hands to grab it. When you actually manage to get ahold of it, you get so excited and you giggle while I cheer.

We're trying to start a bedtime routine that includes a story every night. You're doing really well with an earlier bedtime, and I love our snuggle time in the evenings. It's a tradition I hope to continue for years to come.

Sam, your infectious laugh is the music of my heart. Your gummy grin is like happy medicine for me; I just can't see it and not smile myself. Your little personality is really developing, and it makes me smile to see that you're such a peaceful little guy. I'd like to take at least a little credit for that and think that it is, in part, due to the fact that you know how much we love you. Every day I think I couldn't possibly love you more, but the next morning my heart wakes up a little bit bigger. You're learning at an incredible speed, but you're teaching me so much more.

Love you always and forever,
Mommy