Dear Edie,

Today you are three months old. I cannot believe it. I mean, I can. But I can't. I saw a baby that was 4 days old recently and couldn't fathom how small he was; I just kept thinking, "Edie used to be that little!" which reminded me of the time I was rocking you in your nursery the first week of your life and cried thinking that you'd never be this small again. How right I was. I believe you are easily weighing in over 12 pounds these days and you are officially too long for your mini crib that we keep in our room. I can tell already that you're going to tower over me one day.

This has been a tremendous month for you developmentally and you topped it off by rolling over for the first time today. I set you down on your quilt for some tummy time this morning and you immediately arched your back, rocked back and forth a few times and promptly rolled right onto your back in one swift movement, then rocked right back onto your belly. I squealed in an embarrassing manner and you grinned at me with drool running down your chin. You're also spending a lot of time smiling and making funny noises, and while you started laughing this month, the laughs are still rare enough that we covet each one.
You love looking at yourself in the mirror and often give yourself a coy smile as if flirting with the other baby in the mirror. And while looking in the mirror is entertaining, far and away your favorite activity is standing with a capital S. You must spend at least 3 hours per day just being held under your armpits to stand and if we had the endurance for more, I doubt you'd say no. As much as you love standing, you hate riding in the car twice as much. Or maybe three times as much. We still get out of the house you and me, but the ride home is rarely fun for either of us. The only other activity you dislike is falling asleep. I can always tell when you're tired because you get red and cranky around the eyes and squawk like a chicken. Once you finally stop fighting the sleep and nod off, you're a good sleeper at night, although you recently went from spoiling me with 7-9 hour sleeps to a shorter, 6-7 hour schedule, at which point you eat and then conk back out for a 3 hour morning snooze.

This month you've taken two trips, one weekend in Bellingham with my parents and this most recent weekend on Orcas with your other Grandparents. Both trips were spent being doted on and entertained by immediate and extended family and aside from a little car-screaming, both trips were fantastic.
I take a bath with you every other night after dinner and your Dad has taken to calling it, "Ladies Bath Night". We linger in the tub for up to 20 minutes, floating around and blowing drool bubbles (you, not me) and then sometimes follow it up with a family dance party in your nursery. The other night during a dance party to LCD Sound System, you laughed over and over at my terrible dance moves.

There's so much more to tell you about yourself, but time is tight and you've just fallen asleep without a fight so I should probably head to bed myself. I hope you read this one day and realize how very much your Dad and I love you. Sometimes I get a swell in my chest just looking at the back of your head while you sit in my lap; your tiny shoulders that are half your Dad and half me, your head swiveling side to side on your strong little neck and the bulge of chub folding over the top of your pants. I even love your mullet. Which, by the way, we trimmed last week. You can thank me later.

xoxo,
Mom