Hi Jack

Hi Jack -

Today you're 4 months old. On Christmas Day.

I have to say, sometimes a distance between here and the day you were born seems more like four years.

I looked at you today, with total slobbery admiration like I always do, and you're changed, even from your 3-month-old 'birthday'.

You have embraced persistence in trying to sit up.

You're quite a badger when it comes to chewing on things (my favorite is your vicious gnawing on my knuckles - your face cracks me up every time).

You drool and blow raspberries non-stop (we should really keep up your fluid intake, considering how often you soak right through your clothes).

One thing hasn't changed, and that is the way your face lights up with goofy smiles when you look at me. Those drooly grins still melt my heart every single time. You fit in with my soul like a giant soft jigsaw puzzle piece.

I sat you up today on the Boppy facing me, and once you caught my eyes, there it went, that million-dollar smile. Even in the midst of your first seasonal crud that has finally conquered you, its last opponent standing.

I apologize that we're having to celebrate this momentous occasion by occasionally (pun!) having to suction off your stuffy, slurpy nose. As much as I hate to hear you complain bitterly about it, I hate you not being able to breathe more.

Your temperament hasn't changed. In fact, your laid-back-edness has only been enhanced. As far as I know, you're the easiest baby in the world to care for. You're on schedule, you eat like a champ, you never cry without a reason, and all you really want is to have someone spend time with you.

I'm reaching that point in parenting where saying "I love you" is starting to sound flat and insufficient, as far as truly representing the way I feel about you. What I really mean to say is "I worship you. I will give up anything for you. I cannot believe you're here with me, mine to hold. You complete me. 'Blessed' does not begin to describe how I feel about having you in my life."

You're my son. A concept that was still foreign a little over four months ago. And now I can't imagine what it was like without you. As if in direct retribution for all the trouble you had to go through, you showed up, world's sweetest child. You cheer me up when I fear for you. When I'm crushed by the weight of the uncertainty your health may hold, you're certain that as long as we're together, it's all OK.

I used to find it cheesy, people saying they learn things from their kids.

Now my four-month-old superhero is here to lift me up. ... Well. Not yet literally.

I love you, Bug. Happy birthday.