Pumpkin Pie,

I’m pretty sure I start out every single letter to you with how much I love you. I just can’t help it, because I do love you an incredible amount. It overwhelms me sometimes. So much so that I hold you tightly to my chest and just smell and kiss you. Sometimes against your will. But my to my delight, you have started loving it. We sit and cuddle and talk and smooch and giggle and it is the most magical time of my life. I wouldn’t trade those moments for a bazillion dollars. And I’ve wished for a bazillion dollars quite a few times in my life so that should tell you where you rank.

You have one heck of a temper though, little lady. If you are mad the entire world knows about it. I think you got your lungs from your Aunt Halley. She used to rattle the windows and I’m pretty sure I’ve heard ours clank a few times too.

Don’t tell anyone, but I love that you need me so much right now. For the first threeish months of your life I knew you needed me for survival and while I loved it, it seemed like too much sometimes. However, now you need me emotionally and that melts my heart. Knowing that I am the person to you that my mom was to me brings tears to my eyes. That sounds silly, and you probably won’t know what that means until you have your own little gremlin, but you’ll understand some day.

Grandma Bobbi was the best comforter in the whole world. She knew exactly how to stroke my hair and kiss my head and make everything all better. Now that I’m that for you, as basic as it may be at this point, my life feels complete. I have a purpose in my life. I have a reason to get up and get your cranky pants out of bed. The best part is that as soon as you hear my sing our morning song you stop whining and start smiling. You get so excited and reach out to me and stretch your tiny little body as far as it will go.

I have seen your beautiful little face for 6 months now. That’s half a year. It blows my mind that I have been able to keep you alive (and generally happy) that long. Surely we can make it the next 20 some years.

You have started sitting up completely on your own. Well, from a reclined position anyhow. You can roll over too, you just generally refuse to because you know someone will come along to your rescue if you just yell about it long enough. And yell you do! You don’t scream, you don’t cry, you yell when you want something. It’s actually quite comical and when I stop to laugh at you (well, with you not at you) you’ll look up at me and grin and then get back to yelling when you realize I won’t roll you over.

You are sleeping in your bed right now and you have no idea how big of a deal that is. Ever since you have been 3 weeks old you’ve been sleeping in your car seat. The doctor said it was ok so I went with it, but I’m glad you are in your bed now. And you are sleeping on your belly in your bed. I know you are supposed to be on your back but even when I start you out that way you put yourself on your belly so I figure you’ll be just fine.

I’m pretty convinced that you are going to skip crawling all together. You have no interest in spending any time learning how to crawl or get around on your belly but you are already trying to take steps. Can’t say I’d be all that surprised. Then again, I probably wouldn’t be surprised if you decide to not be mobile at all for the first year of your life just because you know your sisters will tote you around wherever you’d like go. As long as it works I say go for it, kid.

I love you, bug. I love you more than there are stars in the sky. Promise me you’ll never forget that and I promise I’ll never stop showing you.

Love always and forever,

Mommy