Hey boo-

You’ve been home 14 weeks now. It’s getting to the point where I’m going to just start counting in months instead of weeks because when people tell me that their baby is 119 weeks old, I get a little confused. I don’t want to perpetuate that descriptive system, so you’ve been home three and a half months.

I think we can safely say that the honeymoon period, for all of us, is on its way out. You’re comfortable enough with us to show us your true feelings, which, at times, can be shockingly human. Anger, sass, frustration. It’s like you took a page right out of the old “Beth’s Book of How-to-Deal”. Sometimes, your humanity clashes with mine and we’re both red-faced and needing to go to our rooms.

The honeymoon period being over is good and bad.

It’s bad because it’s no longer SUPER AWESOME FUN to parent you every single second of every single day (and I know it’s not always SUPER AWESOME FUN for you to be our kid). It’s not anything that you’ve done or that I’m holding against you. Humans can be buttheads, sometimes. Small humans can often be buttheads to their big humans, who can also be buttheads to their small humans. Buttheadery is just something that happens. Oh, us lowly humans.

The honeymoon period being over is good because it means that you know we’re serious about this family thing. You know that we’re safe; that we can handle you at your worst.

If you want God’s honest truth, I’m kind of glad that you’re a lowly human sometimes. I mean, if we were in the midst of a “lowly human extravaganza” and a friend called and asked me how I was doing, I might tell her that I wanted to bang my head against the wall or take a nap or gag myself with a spoon. BUT you being a lowly human gives me the chance to prove to you that I’m serious about loving you. It’s easy to love adorable, care-free small humans who dole out hugs and kisses like candy and shower you with praise. It’s hard to love buttheads.

But I love you in both forms.

When we talk about what happened and why you were acting as a lowly human and how you can not be such a lowly human next time, I’m so happy that we can get total resolution- that we can talk it out, do a family hug, and move on with our day. I’m so thankful that you’re learning to recover quicker and quicker, that you’re beginning to take ownership for when you’re being a lowly human, and that you can apologize and really mean it. I’m thankful that you’ve learned the sweet taste of forgiveness and that you offer it freely to me when I am a lowly human to you.

It gives me hope that someday you might just know precisely how secure your place is in this family. (Pssst, it’s pretty flippin’ secure.)

Love,

Beth

PS- Here are some completely adorable things that you’ve said recently that I want engraved on my tombstone so that they are never forgotten.

– You were challenged at school by a classmate to a football game. Your team was the Cowboys. You told me that the other team was “the Ray-Bans”. I’m pretty sure it’s the Ravens, but I let you keep saying it because it was adorable.

-You wanted to get your teacher something at Target. Our conversation went something like this:

Beth: What do you want to get her?

Kid: Sneakers.

Beth: Oh, that’s…interesting. What kind of sneakers does she like?

Kid: I dunno. Just regular ones I guess.

Beth: I mean, do you even know her shoe size?

Kid: No! Not shoes. Like a sneakers candy

(At which point, Beth figures out that he’s talking about a Snickers candy bar. Again, adorable.)