4 months

Dear little Dek,

You are already 4 months old and this is the first letter I am getting around to writing to you.

In my defense, you are a very particular little short person and you often only want to be held, but any old baby holder will not do. No, it must be mama who holds you. Big brothers and sisters will be tolerated for extremely brief periods of time. You will submit to being held by daddy if you aren’t tired, or hungry, and don’t have any gas, or any other discomfort of any kind. But if you wake up cranky and he comes in to pick you up, you actually yell louder, as if to say, “Not you! I don’t want you you great hulking hairy man with scratchy whiskers and a loud scary voice. Bring me that woman with the milk boobs. I will only have her.”

We submit to your tyranny, because you are just super adorable when you aren’t really angry that I’m not holding you. To be clear, it is just holding that you want when you do this. Daddy will hand you over as you are screaming hysterically and you will instantly stop, laugh, and grin, and then be perfectly content as I wander around the kitchen holding you against my hip with one arm and getting as much of dinner on as possible with the other. As soon as I put you down for a second though, it’s back to yelling again.

I’ve been not very productive of late as a result.

You have recently crossed over from sweet little newborn baby into fat chubby baby who is getting very long. You have little fat rolls down your sides and you belly laugh if I manage to tickle them just right. Which is the best thing ever.

You are startled by loud noises, and sometimes they scare you and you cry really loud and punish the offending noisy person with your grief. You would think, and I would hope, that this would encourage your older siblings to be less noisy around you but this has not been the case. I think you will have to just get more used to loud noises.

You can roll over, and do so quietly when no one is looking all the time.

You try to put everything you can reach in your mouth. You’re getting hard to hold and eat at the same time because you keep trying to grab things off of my plate. It’s time to get you a few baby toys I think. Though Bam Bam is happy to share his.

Your siblings keep trying to help you sit. They sit you up and hold your hands to help you keep your balance and you are so close, but not there yet.

The best part about how attached to me you are is the way you light up when you see me coming your way. I get kicks and smiles and jolly little baby winks, all as a reward or saying hello to you.

Little adores you, as the little mother that she is. She says that sometimes when she looks at you you are so cute that it hurts her heart. The other day she said, “If Dek were baby Jesus I don’t know how god could have taken care of him because he’s just so cute.” I have no idea what it is she means by that but I had a good laugh anyway.

The Boy is the most acceptable substitute for mommy in our family, and he does an amazing job of holding and comforting you when I’m unable to. He’s also getting pretty good at taking over in the kitchen so I can hold you instead. The Girl sits you on her belly and sings you silly songs and gives you horsy rides. Little would spend hours singing to you if you let her.

You have the best baby cheeks, and your skin is so milky white it still astonishes me to look at when I spend all day seeing either very tanned, or naturally brown skinned folk around.

I think your eyes have settled on hazel for a color, which is good because that’s what I guessed on the your passport application when you were less than one month old and it was really hard to tell. The consulate office wouldn’t let me leave it blank.

You are growing up in a culture where people adore babies, and you are fawned over so much more than you would be in north America. I’m not sure you think this is a good thing, because you prefer me to everyone else, but you are usually gracious enough to break into a giant smile for all the aunties who stop to say hello to you and ask me, “Dek pu chai? Dek pu ying?” For the record, pu chai is the correct answer. You are a boy.

You were the completely unplanned surprise element in this year of extreme transition and adjustment for our family, and yet, having you here slows us down in ways that it’s probably good for us to be slowed down. It’s not made things easier by any stretch, having a baby right after moving to Thailand. But it remains, nonetheless, good.

We love you. You’re amazing. I can’t believe how quickly the time has gone already.

Love,
Mama