You are four months old today, and it is hard for me to know how to capture this moment in time as you seem to reach a new milestone every day. There are even days when I notice in the evening that you have become more adept with your hands since morning or that you are able to support yourself a little longer when sitting up unassisted. (Yes, you sit. Only by propping one chubby arm atop a chubbier leg and a mild breeze throws you off balance, but you sit and you love it.)
One of the biggest changes this month is that I would trade a kidney for three consecutive hours of sleep. These days, you wake up 20 minutes after I fall asleep every night and then every two hours like clockwork for the rest of the night. We've even spent several early mornings camped out on the couch watching infomercials as you struggle to find a comfortable position that will allow you to get back to sleep. At first you were sick and your stuffy nose woke you up, and now you seem to be teething - so vehemently in fact that I am expecting four molars to break through any minute now, and sleep has fallen by the wayside. I think that you also learned that at 2 AM you can nurse without Mia bouncing on your head or me popping you off to go retrieve a juice box and you like to take advantage of the opportunity.
You are starting to really enjoy your toys, especially your elephant, your bee, Mia's beloved Muhammad Ali, a variety of teethers, and even the Ball of Wonder. Mia likes to tear whatever you have out of your hands, and you usually handle it with good grace. I tell her not to take your toys, but I think you may have to live with it until you are big enough to communicate that concept yourself. You like to ride in the stroller and to go to the playground and watch Mia climb and run and slide. You even enjoy a few very gentle pushes on the baby swings.
You have an amazing smile that you wear frequently and that reveals your as yet unbroken gums and the small dimple in your left cheek that is going to drive the girls crazy when you get older. You love to talk and yell and have increased your vocabulary from vowels to "g" to "d"and "r." You aren't really supposed to be dropping those consonants yet, but you are. You have also moved from baby giggles to actual laughter, a sound that likely only a mother (and father) could love, but we adore it. At dinner the other night, your father nearly choked on his food and made a series of choking sounds and you cracked up like it was the best joke you had ever heard. I think you thought he was speaking your language.
You generally have at least four fingers crammed in your mouth and tend to be covered in a thin layer of drool and vomit. You always have fuzz from your pajamas stuck between your toes. You are the world's largest naturally occurring stockpile of ear wax, and you are the cutest damned thing on the planet, hands down.
Owen, I've been trying not to get too attached to your blue eyes, for fear they would fade and I would have set myself up for a disappointment I don't really feel. But they truly are amazing eyes. Brilliant, piercing blue, although really there is probably more white than blue, with lapis rings around the outside. There are plenty of blue eyes in the family, but yours seem to be a gift straight from your great-grandfather Al, who died before you were even conceived but who had been desperately wanting to meet you for years - the only boy of this generation to carry on his name. If you one day come to believe in Heaven, you may be assured that Al is up there smiling down at you and that, for a time at least, you had his eyes.
It always goes so quickly, I know, but I cannot believe that you have been with us for four months already. I can't fathom how soon you will be eating and really sitting and crawling and walking and heading off to college. I know I will always look at these early days with you as one of the great treasures of my life.