Today you are three months old. You are a big huge tank of a baby with a sweet-smelling head and a pterodactyl's cry. You scrunch up your face when you're mad and shove your fist into your mouth when you're not. Sometimes you miss your mouth and hit yourself in the eye instead. But then you try and act all slick and slowly run your hand down your face until your fingers find your mouth. It has got to be one of the cutest things I've ever seen.
There were big, big changes for you this month. You started cooing and squealing. You started drooling. You started touching your legs, and soon I know you will find your feet. You started examining your hands. You started smiling at yourself in the mirror. You started pushing on the surface underneath you with your leg, and soon I know you will turn yourself over. The other day I poked you in the stomach and you giggled. You haven't done it since, but your dad was there and he heard it, too. Your first laugh.
You love sucking on blankets. Sometimes I find you with your face buried in a blanket and your mouth wide open. You love looking at the world from high up. That means whoever holds you better be ready to walk, walk, walk. You love sitting on my tummy and staring at me. You love sitting in my lap. You love practicing standing on my legs. You love having conversations with me. You love smiling at me. You love me. I can feel it now.
It's hard to believe that it's been three months since you entered into this world. You were so tiny! But what a set of lungs you had on you. I never told you this before, but the lactation consultant at the hospital called you "the screamer." You can still scream with a fiery passion. I love that about you. You always had an attitude, even before you were born. You've turned out to be exactly the baby I thought you would be, but what I never could have guessed is how much I love you, Charlie. I love you with a depth and intensity that I didn't think was possible. I look at my life before you and I'm not sure how I made it so long without you. I look at pictures of myself as a baby and I am no longer searching for clues to myself. I'm searching for you.
Because Charlie, when you arrived, I knew I had finally arrived as well. I am alive and present and awake in my life and I know myself in ways I didn't before. I have you to thank for making me a better and richer person. My only hope is that I can give you a shred of what you've already given me.
I love you, kid.