We’re trying to teach Simon to love books. So far, so good. He may need a little more direction in terms of primary purpose (but this is good too).

Jason and I started dating on a Wednesday (May 26, 2004).
Jason proposed to me on a Wednesday (January 26, 2005).
Simon was born on a Wednesday (January 30, 2008).
Last, least, and not at all in the same category, but still pretty good: Project Runway airs on Wednesdays. Season 5 starts tonight. I’m excited.

Dear Simon,

Incredibly, you are already five months old! You are growing up so fast, kiddo, and the only reason I can tolerate that at all is because you just become more and more fun with each new day and each new discovery you make and each new thing you learn to do.

This month we took our first vacation as a family of three. We loaded up way too much stuff in the (borrowed) minivan, paid way too much to fill it up with gas, and headed out to Colorado to visit the Sittlers and the Classens. You were such a great traveler--you slept almost the whole time in the van, and if you were ever awake, you were your usual smiley, drooley self. You did get your first little sunburn the day we went hiking around. I felt so terrible about that, but you didn’t complain at all, and by the next morning it had faded away entirely. You are still too young to notice, but Mama and Shelli had a lot of fun counting all our boys and shaking our heads at the fact that we’ve been friends for twenty-three years.

You also went to your first sporting event--a baseball game. Now, as anyone can tell you, we Moreheads aren’t necessarily ones to enjoy the sports, but you tolerated it well. You entertained us by shouting over the noise of the crowd. And you saw your first fireworks but were unimpressed.

The only question of any real importance to you these days seems to be How can I get that in my mouth? You are learning to grasp things and are ever exploring your world by gumming it one object at a time. Often you’ll be holding a toy, and just when you almost have it in your mouth, you let go but continue to bring your hand into your mouth; inevitably, you let out a cry because the taste of your hand is not what you were working so hard for. It frustrates you, but, man, is it cute.

Another new trick you’ve been practicing is getting the star at the top of your playmat to bend to your will. You yell at it until Mama or Daddy switches it on; then you just happily kick while your bud the Star flashes at you and plays a tune that gets stuck in Mama’s head.

You are holding your head up steady, which has totally transformed tummy time--you practically like it now. You love to sit up (soon you’ll be doing it on your own!) or especially to stand--so many different perspectives to explore!  You are just about to laugh, and you are thinking about rolling over (check that. In the time it’s taken Mama to get this letter finished, you have started rolling from your tummy to your back. What fun you are having showing off your new skill!).

Simon, you have the most amazing, engaging smile, and you share it freely, although overall you are a pretty serious little fellow, You are becoming more observant all the time, and I love watching you study your toys and especially people. You are a great kid, and your daddy and I say every day how thankful we are for you,

Mama loves you, little man.

Dear Simon,

Where in the world have four months gone already? I think this month you have changed more than any other month. Every day you interact more with the people and objects in your world. It used to be that I would look forward to times when you would sleep so that I could get a little rest. These days, I can’t wait until you wake up so that we can talk. Sometimes I even wake you up, though that doesn’t always go well for me.

This month, you were baptized. This means that you are a member of God’s covenant family and are entitled to all of the blessings that entails. We know that God’s spirit is at work in your heart, and we pray for the day that you profess your own faith in Jesus Christ. Until then, you will be surrounded by people who love you, both at home and in the church. And these people want you know that God loves you, and that you are ultimately His child.

You also had your baby shower (finally), which was yet another reminder that so many people love you. They brought many wonderful gifts—cute clothes (which you are already growing out of), books that will make you the smartest boy on the block, and all kinds of fun toys. Your parents might grumble every now and then that the house now looks like a tornado tore through a baby store, but we’re incredibly grateful for all of the support and care that has been shown to our family over the last few months.

One of my favorite new things that you started doing this month is the Full Body Hello. If someone walks into your line of sight, you will kick your legs, flail your arms, and wiggle your middle, and flash that smile that can be seen from outer space. That you are so happy to see me almost makes up for the fact that you are becoming more independent every day. You like to be on your back and kick. You’re still a bit of a snuggle bug, but not as much as before. You like to sit up, and you have much better head control, but you’re still pretty wobbly, so it looks like you’re agreeing with everything everybody says.

You also have become quite social. You do a lot of “talking” and sometimes your conversations with the ceiling fan are quite spirited. You have started smiling at yourself in the mirror, or maybe you’re smiling at two mommies. Either way, you are very engaging.

You still manage to keep your parents on their toes. In the early months, you had your guerilla pooping skills. Nowadays, you’re a bit manic. One minute, you might be screaming at the top of your lungs, like the whole sky is falling. And just when we’re about to execute Emergency Baby Pacification Plan #258 (which often entails pulling over to the side of the road and soothing you), you’ll suddenly keel over in mid-wail, fast asleep.

You still bring lots of joy into our lives, and I don’t think that’s going to end anytime soon.

Mama loves you, little man.

We’ve just returned from a short trip (long weekend, really) to visit friends in Colorado. Simon was a delightful travel companion, and we all enjoyed our first vacation as a family of three. As always, I’m all inspired after spending time with the Sittlers, and I’m itching to end my long blog drought. However, I’m more delerious from lack of sleep and road-weary than I am inspired, so this bitty entry will have to remain a teaser for tonight.

Dear Simon,

I’m a little late with your letter this month. What’s worse, I don’t remember all that much about this month. You see, it’s all kind of a blur because you started smiling, and that’s pretty much all I can handle. You started off tentatively and unpredictably. I would spend most of my days hovered over you, camera in hand, begging you to smile and shooting hundreds of pictures trying to catch that fleeting grin. Now, though, you smile just about every time you are awake, and that just makes me go all weak in the knees. Oh, and then there’s the cooing. Don’t even get me started. When you talk to me, everything goes all blurry and I just about black out from the cuteness.

You are doing everything a little bigger and and a little better this month. You stay awake for longer stretches. You sleep a little longer and A LOT better. You like your baths better all the time.

You can and do sleep anywhere. And that’s mostly nice, but at the same time, I just can’t wait until you wake up so that can talk to you again.

And did I mention that you’re smiling now?

You still have a bit of drama in you, kid. Either you’re all-out happy or you couldn’t care less. These next two pictures? Same kid.

You’ve also started to interact with objects around you more. You have a musical cow on your bouncy seat that you think is so funny, and when it gets stuck (the same place every time), you cock your head as if you can’t figure out why the music turned into such an annoying sound. And we’ve started working on textures--but I don’t think you really get it yet, because you seem to like your soft, soft teddy bear and your daddy’s scratchy face just the same.

You are a great kid, and I am loving every minute of getting to know you.

Mama loves you, little man.

When do sweet little feet cross the line from totally edible to not so much?

Dear Simon,

On Saturday you turned two months old. I wouldn’t believe it except today you have your two-month check-up with the pediatrician, so that must be right.

You have grown so much this month. You grew out of your preemie clothes—two pounds ago, in fact. I cried as I folded them up and tucked them away even though I knew I was being rather silly. I am so conflicted. Of course, I cheer when you grow. I call your dad every week after your weight checks to make him guess what a big baby you’re becoming. But then I remember you’ll never be this little again, and that makes me ache a little.

You are starting to make more noises and make them more often. Your range of grunts is definitely expanding. Most interestingly and perplexingly, you seem to have learned to throw your voice. Yesterday we were in the grocery store and you let out this gravelly, sorrowful groan, but in the time that it took me to shift my eyes from the peas to your sweet face, you had become your usual placid self, and I thought to myself that there was just no way that sad sound had come from that peaceful baby except possibly by way of ventriloquism.

You’ve learned a few other tricks this month as well. When we feed you from a bottle, you either place your hand on top of ours as if to guide us, or you ball both your hands into tight little fists up by your chest as if to psych yourself up to chug the whole thing. Impossibly cute. Once in a while you find your thumb, though usually by accident after several minutes of flailing your arm back and forth in front of your face and sticking out your tongue as if trying to catch it like a raindrop. And occasionally you spit up so much that we realize you must be trying to treat us to your impression of a soft-serve ice cream dispenser—this is one trick we wish you would unlearn, kiddo.

You are regularly undecided about whether or not you are upset. Usually, you decide you’re not. Sometimes when you are sleeping, just about to wake, you will screw up your face and trick us into thinking you’re about to let out a blood-curdling scream, but the next moment you will relax again completely. You can go from Mr. Fussy Fusses A Lot to Mr. Limpy McSleeper in such a short span that if you were older I’d think you were faking it. This morning during tummy time, you tried your best to roll onto your back, but after only a few minutes of disgruntled and noisy baby push-ups (wherein you lift your head from side to side), you decided it was in vain and abandoned the project. Poor little peanut without any motor control.

This month you’ve ventured out of the house quite a bit more. You made your debut at Zion, you visited both sets of grandparents for Easter, and you even made the rounds with Daddy’s co-workers. You love your car seat, which is a blessing. Perhaps you have inherited your mama’s love of traveling. You are a big hit wherever you go, of course, and it makes me feel a little bit more sane to be not quite so housebound. Predictably, the downside is that we are now late for absolutely everything. Who knew you would need so much stuff for the smallest outings—and who knew it would take forever to round it all up?

You are also starting to interact more, and that is even more fun than we had imagined. You have given us a couple of smiles, though they are not yet predictable, and your dad and I regularly make fools of ourselves trying to get you to give us a gummy little grin. Now you are happily kicking and smiling beside me. Every once in a while, I stick my face into your line of vision, just so I can pretend you’re smiling at me. Soon, soon. Whenever you hear your daddy’s voice, you crane your neck to see where he is. This, of course, pushes my heart to its absolute bursting point every time.

You are the best baby in the world. My only suggestion for improvement is this: this next month I’d like to see you work on being awake more in the day and asleep more in the night. That’s all.

Mama loves you, little man.

Simon and Ezra

One of the first decisions Jason and I made about “when we have kids” is that we would have a Totoro-themed nursery (his idea). Finishing the nursey was truly a collaborative effort by Simon’s grandparents, and we couldn’t be more happy with how it turned out. Grandpa Carlson painted the walls. Grandma Carlson made the curtains. Grandma Morehead made the bedding. And the wall hangings were a team effort--Grandma Carlson made the pattern, Grandpa Morehead cut the wood (and spearheaded the installation), and Grandma Morehead painted them. They each did such an amazing job, and I am so thankful to have such a special room for our little guy.