What a whirlwind ride! It feels like just yesterday that I was running around trying to close projects before your (planned) arrival, so you obligingly delayed your arrival for a couple of days and came to cheer us up after the dire news of the collapse of Lehman Brothers.
It seemed like a trend. From your rocket-speed birth to your remarkable ability to take care of yourself, you have been such a cheerful and delightful bundle. We went for 2 months of yoga classes together, and the teacher commented that she had never heard you cry. You really are the most blissed out baby I know of.
This of course, does not ever stop you from being a cheeky little monkey. Your favorite trick for a really long time was peeing on us every chance you got. I promise that I could hear you laughing after that.
We're probably much more relaxed parents with you, and you reward us with your beautiful smile so often. We probably don't deserve it but only very little children and very large dogs have so much to teach us about such intense and unguarded love that make your parents go weak at the knees at the responsibility of not screwing this all up in the habit of human nature to do so.
You are sitting happily now, and rolling enthusiastically around on your carpet. We are trying to figure out how to balance your need to explore by grabbing random things and shoving them into your mouth, against your sister's desire to play with very small and dangerous little toys.
I had a terrible nightmare last night that you asphyxiated on a small button that had come off my shirt whilst I was nursing you and I had to give you CPR. I woke up completely in tears, and rushed to your room and spent the rest of the night checking that you were still breathing. The next morning when the sun came up, you gave me another one of your huge smiles and I knew that even if I was just being insanely paranoid the thought that I might lose you (even in a hypothetical dream) makes the back-ache that comes sitting next to your bed on the floor all night worth it.