Elliott and Reese,

You're just about seven months old.
From a gestational stand-point, more like four months.
This past week, Jesse has been driving to West Hollywood every day for work.
It's been the three of us from morning to night.

I'm sweetly surprised to find that managing you on my own is somehow easier than sharing the responsibility.
When there's no one around to take over, I have to be focused.
The result of which is that we've really been enjoying eachother.

I make faces at you while you lay on the floor,
and in response you smile wide, push your chin into your chest, and arch your back.

Your whole body contorts with glee.
It is the most awesome spectacle I've ever laid eyes on.
I want to curse, like, happy curses.
But you're just babies, so instead I say things like,
You are the babiest baby in the whole world!
and,
Will you marry me?

I'm not sure I'm going to be the kind of mom who remembers the exact day you rolled from your back to your belly,
but I'll never forget the moment I realized
we were having fun.


I love you completely.

Momma