Smiles

Bryce's newest trick is smiling. He's a pretty happy baby, though he doesn't readily smile most of the time. But when he does, oh, when he does it's glorious!

Letters

I now present a series of open letters. Shall we begin?

Indeed.

* * *

Dear My Body,

You are looking fabulous in all your post-baby, post-gallbladder surgery glory, I must say. Yes, there are stretch marks. Yes, there is flab. Yes, there are scars. No, we'll never be the same again.

But, body of mine, you are amazing! I have taken you for granted all my life because, for as long as I can remember, you have always been there, housing my spirit and functioning in astounding ways. Pregnancy, though extremely challenging, has taught me what an amazing gift you are. I'm amazed. Utterly amazed. Through no skill of my own, we made a baby. You did all the work, and I did all the complaining. You made a perfect child, even though I wasn't always able to nourish you. You delivered this child into the world with hardly any help.

You are amazing! You breathe and digest and move as I direct.

This past year you have been put through the paces in ways I never imagined.

So now I want to make you a promise or two. I'm going to take better care of you. Never again will I take you for granted. I will love you better than I have in the past, because you are a gift. A beautiful gift.

Thank you.

K

PS: I'm still kind of ticked about that whole gallbladder thing. You understand, I'm sure.

* * *

Dear Bryce,

I love you! If you couldn't tell by the way I smother you will kisses every minute, I'm kind of crazy about you. I think you're the sweetest thing I've ever seen! I love so many things about you.

I love the noises you make -- and they are many and varied. You grunt and snort and whimper and sigh. When you are waking up, you make this sound that reminds me of a low-toned dolphin, or maybe a billy goat. Your noises make me laugh. (And I'll admit, thought it's terribly juvenile, I laugh especially hard at your toots!)

I love your smile. It is possibly the most beautiful thing in the world. It comes when I least expect it, and I'm so glad to see it more and more often as the days go by. It is the sweetest reward for the tough job of being your Mommy. I hope it means that you are happy and that life is sweet for you. Those are my goals.

I love the little things you do. The way your arm is usually flung up over your face, or your fist raised to the heavens as you sleep. (And how does that arm always escape my expert swaddling job, huh?) I love that when I pick you up you put both your hands up by your ears and stretch, elbows sticking out. Your head arches backward and you stick your butt out so you look like the letter C (or maybe G, since your legs are all involved and such), and stick out your lips in a darling little pucker-frown.

The faces you make are priceless. Like when you don't want to nurse and you scrunch up your brows and make your mouth into a tiny "O". Or when you stick out your tongue. Or yawn. Or sneeze. Or breathe...

You are adorable!

Love,

Mommy

* * *

Dear My Parents,

We cannot thank you enough for everything you have done for me and Preston and Bryce this past year. You are so kind and generous and wonderful. Especially you, Mom.

You might drive us insane sometimes, but we shudder to think where we might be right now without you!

Love,

The Ericksons

* * *

Dear The University of Utah,

There are many things I love about you, but what I hate about you is this: your deadlines suck and you are making it impossible for Ericksons to graduate. I patiently endured your ridiculous deadlines that kept me from receiving my diploma for an entire extra semester, but I will endure no more.

If you don't start cooperating where Preston's Masters is concerned, I will have no choice but to open up a can of...

Well, you get the idea.

Kisses!

K