Dear Ben

May 11, 2005 Dear Ben:

I sit here writing you this letter as you lie next to me sleeping. As usual, we are on the very edge of the bed, scrunched together. We would be falling off if it weren't for your bassinet holding me on. Each night I come perilously close to winding up face down on the hardwood floor because of your need to be tightly pressed up against me. And I must confess that I love this need of yours.

You are two months old this week. I can hardly believe it. Already it is going so quickly and I want so desperately to stop this moment in time and see what future things you will do simultaneously. You are truly my little angel. I never thought I could love someone like I love you. It seems such a cliche, but it is true. I never knew that I had so much love to give and the well is bottomless for you. You have truly stolen my heart.

You are an exceptionally easy baby. You love to sleep (THANK GOD) and smile and laugh. Your cry is insistent, but quiet. You love to lie under your mobile in the mornings while I make my first (and much needed) cup of coffee. You coo and talk to it so convincingly that I begin to believe that it answers you back.

You are exceptionally strong, rolling onto your stomach already and holding your head up on your own from the get go. And you are fascinated by faces, especially other children's.

You have already been on an airplane and came through it like a pro. We went to the desert to visit Nana and Grandad. Nana gave you a bath after a bout of fussiness and you passed out in her arms, exhausted from crying, as your not a big fan of the bath yet. And you gave me the wonderful gift of seeing my child in the arms of my own mother.

We had your bris on Wednesday, March 16th. It was such a lovely day. Our friends and family came to share in this ceremony to celebrate your birth. I must admit that I seriously considered stealing you away. Circumcision seemed like a fine idea in the abstract, but once you were born I thought you were perfect just the way you are and there was no way anyone was going to alter one hair on your head. But convention won out. After all, we had all these people coming and there was food bought. I couldn't possibly disrupt that (this warped way of thinking that I got from my Southern family will probably ring true once you are old enough to read this).

I look forward to many adventures and certainly much dysfunction with you. Don't worry kid, I already started saving up for your therapy. As your daddy says, You light up the room. You light up the world."