10 Months.

Dear Van,

Hey love.  10 months.  You are 10 months old.  I can't wrap my mind around how that's possible.  Time is passing too fast.  As I write this, you are playing at my feet saying, "Bababababa (spit bubble) Mamamamama (spit bubble, spit bubble) Dodododo."  I just can't picture the day when you'll be saying, "Mom, I love you" or "Hey, can I borrow the keys?" or "Do you think she'll say yes?"  Those days will come soon enough.  But right now, I'm enjoying your innocent babble.

I write you these letters.  Every month, I write to you.  I hope that one day you'll read them.  I write because I don't ever want to forget.  I want you to be able to see into this part of our life.  The part you won't remember.  Because its special.  And you can never go back.   

I want you to have the best life.  To me, that may mean something different than it does for others.  I don't care if you have the best clothes or the newest gadgets or the nicest truck in the lot.  Those are not the things that matter.  To me, the best life means being loved, being honest, being true to yourself, being able to laugh, being grateful, being faithful, and being happy.  Those are the things that matter.  And nothing else.  I hope I'll be able to teach you that.  

I hope that you'll look to the good examples in your life to learn how you should live.  Look to your Dad when you want to learn how to work hard and play harder.  Look to your Nannie when you want to learn how to give and be completely selfless.  Look to your aunts and uncles when you want to learn how to be strong in the church.  And if you ever need to learn to love yourself...look to me.  Because nobody loves you like I do.  

This month, you've done quite a bit of learning already.  Here's a few of your exciting events:

You are fast as lightening.

I can barely keep up with you kid.  Goodness me.  It's a good thing you're pretty predictable.  If I ever can't find you, I usually just have to wait a few seconds until I hear that little "ping ping" coming from the front room.  The piano is your favorite spot in the house.  

You know exactly what you can't have...and that's what you want.

Doesn't matter what it is.  Let's take a toy, for instance, that you haven't paid any attention to in 3 weeks.  If I have it on my lap and say, "No no, that's Mama's" you will practically have a heart attack trying to get it.  If I try to give you some food out of your bowl? Not interested.  But if I put it my plate, you are all over it.  I've tricked you into some mighty big bites of green beans that way.  (Don't fight it.  They're good for you.)

You had your first taste of juice.  

And you loved it.  You are funny about temperatures though.  You don't like stuff when it's cold.  I've probably shot myself in the foot on that one.  Always making sure your bottles are nice and warm.  You don't like your juice straight out of the fridge.  But once it's warmed up to room temperature, you are a fan.

You love bedtime.

Ah, I love this one.  When I lay you down in your crib, you just lay on your back and get this huge smile on your face because you know what's coming next.  I hold your blanket over you and then spread it over your tiny little body.  And....you ATTACK!  You grab on it with both arms and both legs and quickly roll to your side to nuzzle into your fluffy friend.  Melts my heart.

Van, you are so much fun.  You're a LOT of work also, but the fun makes it worth it.  Thank you for being my son.  Thank you for bringing so much happiness to my life.  I couldn't imagine life without you.  I love you all the way around the world and touching.

Love,

Mama

    

 

Standing on Grandpa's hand.  It's....TRADITION!

 Look at those teethies.  He's got a HUGE gap between the front two.  Just like Mama.

Ping ping ping.  My future piano player.

Driving on a back country road.

Squeeeeeeze him.

Nannie's idea of fun before bathtime.  We laughed for quite a while watching Van look at himself in the mirror like, "What in the world is that?!"

 Bub stuck his face in the water and came out with a tiny white beard.  He looked so cute.

Love these baby blues.

The day I cleaned out the office.  Believe it or not before Van got to this, these were nicely organized piles of books.  I couldn't stop him though.  It was like he was Godzilla tearing down these massive towers bigger than he was.  He looked so proud of his handiwork.

Van, you're a stud.