Full photo album can be found HERE.
It’s been four months already, my sweet little boy, and I still catch myself feeling surprised at how powerful love is. When Luna was born every moment was a pool of mixed emotions, this intense, unconditional and somewhat primal love, followed by the anxiety that I was getting it all wrong. When Aurora arrived I felt the strength of that love double in size, but the anxiety disappeared, two beings easier than one. And then you, my darling little Ludo, expanded that love to triple in size, overwhelming at times, but weightless, an easy, gentle, all-encompassing love, a love that is unconditional in every way, a love that breathes life and joy.
These past four months have gone by too fast, those little skinny, wrinkly legs are now roly poly and plump, your body has slowly started to grow into proportion with your head, and you have gone from rolling here and there to rolling over and over as a form of transport. Already hunched up on your arms and knees, ready to launch into a crawl at any moment. I remember right after you were born, when everyone left us to cuddle in silence, I held you tight and whispered to you to take things slowly, to let me savor those firsts one last time. You obviously had no intention of listening to that request, doing the exact opposite, but it’s OK, I can understand wanting to catch up with your sisters, I really can. So I cherish those moments where you look straight into my eyes and smile, at peace with everything, simply just happy in my arms.
When you wake up in the night, little legs and arms stuck in between the bars of the crib, demanding I take you into my arms, we fall asleep together, waking up all smiles and laughter. These days I don’t worry so much about sleep and tracking things, about dishes and laundry, or about whether or not the TV has been on for too long, or about weight gain or loss. I don’t think too far into the future anymore, focusing on the day to day and the here and now. I should probably think a little further than next week but I’m quite happy gazing into your eyes and making you smile while cuddling your sisters on either side of me.
It makes me so happy to catch special moments between you three, where the girls are playing or drawing near you, and you are right there with them with wide eyes, eager to join in. Their tantrums don’t seem to bother you; although they have started to wake you up sometimes, that four month sleep regression started too early and doesn’t seem to want to leave just yet. Or maybe that’s just because you wake up and want to cuddle before going back to sleep again. But that’s all right, every time I pick you up I hold you tight and never wants to let you go, even when you use that newly developed pincer grasp to pinch me, giggling as you do it. I stroke your soft, dark hair while singing You Are My Sunshine to all three of you. Because you are all my sunshine, my moonlight, and an enormous part of my happiness.
This month we took you to Aftershock, a huge music festival, and made it through a whole day and a half altogether, listening to brilliant music, and relaxing as a family amongst 50,000 other people. My main highlight was singing Something I Can Never Have to you while rocking you in my arms, one of my absolute favorite Nine Inch Nails songs, surrounded by those I love and who love me. It was such a special moment, one you will most likely never remember, and one I always will. We walked for miles over those two days, through Old Sacramento to the American River, and along the river to Discovery Park, the girls dawdling, you in your carrier, disliking the sunshine, finally relaxing under your sun hat and enjoying the ride. I remember how self-conscious I was when I would nurse Luna in public, now a seasoned pro, with the knowledge that you are the last baby I will nurse. I’m sure I will never let you forget that you were nursed during A Perfect Circle and Nine Inch Nails, bands that your mother has adored since her teens, and one you will hopefully love too. As well as The Cure and Nick Cave, but that is a given. Not that I am deciding what your music taste will be of course…
You also met your uncle and auntie for the first time, and you kind of scared uncle a little by screaming if I left the room. It made me realize how you now know if I go too far away. I can’t wait for us all to be together again at Christmas, your first Christmas, and all of our first Christmas in this new home. You already had your first Halloween, and slept through your sisters’ trick or treating around the neighborhood, the perfect little Addams baby with your little moustache. I always have to laugh that most of our costumes can be created from items from our closets… And you helped me (in spirit) create our altar for the Dia de los Muertos, with homemade pan de muerto and many, many calacas. Autumn really is my favorite time of the year, I hope you will learn to love the seasons as I do.
Anyway, my little Ludo, I hope you always know how much joy you bring to all of us, how special you are, and how I want you to grow big and strong like your sisters, compassionate, empathetic, and never afraid to speak your mind and stand up for others. I can’t really remember what it was like when you weren’t part of our lives. I don’t think I will ever cease to be amazed at how love can continuously grow and grow and never stop growing.