four months

Dear Oscar,

For awhile there in the space where July becomes August we were three months, three years, and three decades.  Then the 13th rolled around and you were four months, and now I'm almost three decades and change.

You are still laid back, increasingly interested in your sister, increasingly laughing at us from across the room, increasingly chewing and chewing on your hand. I'm waiting for some teeth to pop up any minute now, but so far you just keep chewing.

You're happy to lay on the floor with a toy, or sit in your bouncy chair as long as it's facing us, near wherever the action is.

You have a halo of hair that sticks up when its just been washed and looks red in the sunlight. You talk a lot with modulated squeaks and screeches.

You have a sideways smile and a twinkly grin. You make us laugh.

Today we discovered another friend is pregnant, with another boy: your arrival into this world was apparently quite inspiring, and we'll be ushering in a new wave of boys nine months after you were born.

You are the vanguard. Long live the baby boys!

Love,
Your Mama