One month

Dear Harrison,

It’s hard to believe that a month has passed already since you were born. I was fairly warned that time would fly by, and I knew that everyone wasn’t lying, but I can attest that you really don’t know how true that is until you’re a parent.

You joined us on a sunny but briskly cold day in March (so I’m told). In what I’m finding to be your usual fashion you had your own way of doing things even in labour and delivery – by being “sunny side up” until the last minute and then figuring out how best to go about things to make it out into this world. Maybe you get this from your dad. He likes to take his time, but he almost always gets it right.

You’re changing so much every day. I love learning about your personality and watching you make small wins in the development department.

So far we know that you like being warm, and being swaddled, dislike very much having a wet diaper and you really like to suck your thumb – when you can get it to your mouth. It has brought me many hours of enjoyment to watch you flail about as you try to get a thumb – any thumb – into your mouth. You often look like what I have dubbed the “angry maestro” as you wave your arms about and then turn your head trying to find just the right fit of thumb and mouth. You often get your thumb in your mouth but then put a finger or two into your eye pulling it down or poking at it. It grosses me out. Most days you also get at least one case of the hiccups. These are endlessly adorable.

You are also freakishly strong. From the time you were born, you’ve had very strong neck muscles. You can pull your head back from a shoulder that you’re resting on and turn from side to side. You don’t always have great control, but it’s getting there.

The verdict is still split on who you look more like. As you’re starting to put on some weight and your cheeks are filling out, you are starting to look more like your dad. I think you’re a pretty even split of both of us.

You are a good sleeper. THANK YOU! From the time you were 6 days old you’ve been sleeping about 6 hours at night. This has made your short (also thank you) fussy periods much easier to bear.

Your Grandma and Grandpa Cruickshank came to visit you for the whole month. One morning I came downstairs to find Grandpa trying to teach you to count to ten by counting all your fingers. You were completely engrossed in the whole process. Grandma loves to cuddle you and hold you when you’re crying to give me a break. Grandpa was convinced that he’d get you to smile at him before he left. I warned him that babies don’t smile until about 4 to 6 weeks of age (after he would be already back in London), but he was not concerned. He was sure he could get you to smile. And you didn’t disappoint. On a Saturday morning while sitting in the sun room at the house in Cornwall, Grandpa was tickling you with his stubbly beard and you smiled wide right at him. Then you did it again, and then again as he kept tickling you. That may be the greatest gift Grandpa has ever gotten.

I’m happy to report that you smiled at me, and then your dad the same day. You didn’t make us wait, and you’ve been smiling at us ever since.

You’ve had a busy month already – we’ve had lots of visitors come to greet you and welcome you into the world. You’ve “eaten out” at a restaurant, been to the mall, and the doctor’s office. You’ve even been to a spa! You went on a long road trip to Cornwall and back to meet Grandma Cruickshank’s family. You travel like a champ!

Now that Grandma and Grandpa are gone, and daddy is back to work, it’s just you and me. I can’t wait to see what trouble we’ll get into. I hope April will bring us warm weather so that we can get out together and go for walks.

When you were born, and the nurses handed you to me, my first thought was that you looked really familiar. It was something I wasn’t expecting, and my thoughts even wondered which friend of mine you looked like – as if you were so familiar that you must be a friend or a friend’s baby. I realized that, of course, you look familiar, because you look like me and your dad. I hope I never forget that feeling I had, though, that I knew you and that you were a friend.


your friend,



2 thoughts on “One month

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