A Letter To Rhys: 3 Years, 3 months

Dear Rhys,

I wonder to myself, daily, "do all three-year-olds have THIS much personality?". You are hilarious. You have very animated facial expressions. You have a sweet Mickey Mouse voice. Your imagination and vocabulary continue to explode.

You chatter NON STOP from the second you wake up ("hi mommy, what you dream about? What we doing today?"), to the seconds before you fall asleep. Even when we play dinosaurs or cars, all you want to do is have the toys TALK to each other. Complete strangers (like the hairdresser at Beaners) will comment on how chatty you are. You make up words (instead of high/low, you say upper/downer), and you double up on your plurals ("Mommy, looks at those trees-ez-ez").

Lately you love building forts/tents/houses out of chairs and blankets, playing chase, playing hide and seek, and helping your Dad shovel the driveway. You have gotten really good at riding your bike (no pedals) and your balance keeps improving. You love the idea that I miss you when you are not around ("Mommy, you miss me at play school? You so sad? You cry, and cry and cry?").

Some things about you that I will want to reference when Kyle is 3:

- You started wearing underwear instead of diapers a couple months before your 3rd birthday.

- You started to drop your nap around your birthday, and dropped it completely a couple months ago.

- Your bedtime these days is around 7p and 7:30. If you do happen to have a rare nap, it is impossible to get you to sleep before 9:45p.

- Your bedtime routine has many steps and phases, because overtime your stalling skills have forced us to try and jam all the things you want into a 'bedtime routine'. So, starting around 5p, your routine is dinner, play, treat, bath, one-on-one play in your room with mommy or daddy (with a timer), a cartoon (20 mins) with a bowl of cheerios, potty, brush teeth, story, drink of water, snuggle, 'good parts/bad parts' talk about the day, song, lights out. PHEW. I get tired just reading that.

I love you, Rhys-y-pie. Night, night.

Mommy

A Letter To Kyle, 9 months Old (+1 week)

Dear Kyle,

You are sweet, happy, and so easy to love. You are busy, fast, determined, curious and extremely tolerant of noise and activity (when you're awake). If I had to guess your future occupation, at this point I would wager...a mountain climber or hotdog-eating-contest winner. Or, maybe even male supermodel with your undeniable good looks and delicious smile.

I wish I had been better at documenting your monthly 'birthdays' because you and your habits have changed so much from week to week and month to month. You are now weaned completely from nursing, and take 3 to 4 bottles a day, with no more night feedings (that deserves a FIST PUMP, YAH!) You sleep from around 7p to 6a, wake and fuss at 6a on the nose, then fall back asleep until 7am or so. FINALLY. Now that you're on a bottle, your Papa gets up with you in the morning, feeds you your 'bubba' and plays with you.

Your nighttime routine is to eat your solid dinner around 4:30p/5:00p, play, bath around 6p, play, then a couple stories/quiet time in your bedroom, then in bed awake (sleepsack) between 7p and 7:30p. For a baby who had to be rocked to sleep/sleep ON someone, this is like a Christmas Day Miracle. And the super amazing thing about you Kyle, is if you miss a nap, or we're out late, it doesn't phase you. Even though you are finally sleeping better, I still think of you as the Bionic Baby who doesn't act like he needs any sleep at all.

You clack your tongue, grunt, and giggle. You are SO CLOSE to walking. You have discovered gravity and love to 'drop' things. You love to eat and start to cry in anticipation when you see your bottle. Your favourite food is cheese. You like sipping water from a cup. You like sucking a soother.

Rhys loves playing with you, so hopefully you don't mind your role as 'The Baby Monster', because that is what you'll be stuck with for a while, I'm afraid. ("Quick, RUN, the BABY MONSTER is coming to GET US!!!!).

A Letter To Kyle at 2 months old

Dear Kyle,

All the worries I had before you were born, about how you would fit into our family, have vanished. And they vanished instantly. From the moment I held you it was like you had always been here. I was so worried you would feel like a stranger; an intruder into this little life we had become so used to. That I would harbour guilt because I loved Rhys more. Words can't fully recant how ridiculous that seems to me now.

I absolutely loved the first two nights at home with you. I stayed in your room all night, with you on my chest. When you woke I would nurse you, when you were done we'd snuggle and rock until you'd drift off again. I would smell your head and press my lips and nose against the peach fuzz on your head that we call hair. It was so special. In fact, those two nights were so wonderful that I proclaimed to your Daddy that I already wanted another baby. That is how head-over-heels in love with you I already was. I know that as you grow older, those will be the moments I look back on that will make me cry.

Things about you at 2 months old:

You love to snuggle. To be rocked to sleep. To snooze in any one's arms or on any one's chest.

You startled easily as a newborn, but have never liked being swaddled.

You never slept in the bassinet in our room. You went straight to your crib in your own room. This worked well because it turns out you are a loud sleeper... Always squeaking or snorting or grunting or whistling with your nose.

You have never liked sleeping on your back, which caused me much stress at first. Back is Best is what parents are told. But, you are a tummy sleeper, and I've made peace with that.

The longest stretch of sleep you've had so far is 6.5 hours. I feed you twice through the night and your bedtime is slowly shifting from 11:30pm towards a more reasonable time, like 8:30pm on a good night. Instead of the 9-12 feedings a day, I now nurse you 6-7 times in 24 hours. You have taken a bottle twice.

You. Were. Gassy. Or 'Colicky', as some would say. You had a witching hour from about 9pm - 11:30pm when the pains in your tummy made you inconsolable most nights. We actually contemplated taking you to the hospital at times, in fear that your appendix was bursting or something. I had perfected about six burping positions. We also tried Oval, Gripe Water, dietary restrictions and pro-biotics. Not sure what did the trick, but your gassy phase seems to be done for now (knock on wood!).

Now that you're not riddled with gas pains, you seem pretty chill. You don't get upset when you hear a vacuum or a blow dryer or Grampa's tools or the loud clanging of toys that Rhys plays with.

Your big brother, Rhys, likes you a lot when he's in the mood to. He'll often stop playing for a second, run over to you, and put his face right up to yours and smile. He asks to see you when you're not in the room, and he tells everyone to 'be quiet as a mouse' when you're sleeping. The rest of the time, he's oblivious to your cries, or your need to eat.

Your eyes are blue/grey, and your 'hair' is very fair (I think we're in denial that you're actually bald).

At two months old you have already rolled from front to back a couple times, and you move around your crib enough to get your limbs caught in the crib rails. You are batting toys with your little fists. You smile and coo and melt the hearts of your parents and grandparents. Oh, those sounds. They are magic.

I want to apologize for something that is bound to happen, though. The first couple years of your life won't be documented with the same minutia that your brother's was. I will try my best, but I know it won't be enough. But know this. Less photos and videos and blog entries does not mean I wasn't watching you. It does not mean I am not soaking you in and cherishing you every bit as much. Because I am. Now I know the things to watch for. The things to burn into my memory. Now I know how fast you will change, so I will stop to stare. I may not grab the camera or the keyboard and write about it every time, but I did it. I promise. It would be impossible not too.

To my sweet, handsome, soft, adorable little Snuggle Bug... I love you, Kyle.

Love,

Your Mom

(Editor's note: I am horrified to admit that this is THE ONLY family photo, of all four of us together, that we have taken. We didn't even take one in the hospital. I think in April I will resolve to get one-a-week, because I think that's criminal!)

A Letter To Future Warren and Amanda

Dear Future Warren and Amanda,

When the day comes that you begin to romanticize the newborn phase, glossing it over in your minds as you look back on photos, envying the moms with little bundles in their strollers and thinking to yourself 'I sure hope she is cherishing every moment', please try to remember how much it sucked most of the time.

Best,

Past Amanda

A Letter

Dear Mom Lady Who Left The Annoying Message On My Phone,

I am sorry you found the post about my cupboards boring. I didn't get the memo that you are now the Content Editor for my blog. I know it would make you happy if I changed the name of my blog to 'Photos & Video Of Rhys And Nothing Else', but that isn't going to happen.

Sure, I get that not everyone is as excited about my cupboards as myself, but this is my blog.

Anyway...here is your fix.

Mr. Serious, in his dabber 't-shirt over shirt' ensemble:

Sir Eats-A-Lot stuffing his face:

Look, I can stand up like a big boy! :

Hmmm....maybe these sleepers don't fit anymore... :

Hangin' with Crazy Uncle Adam:

Sincerely,

Amanda Cronin

Owner, Writer, Editor, Operator & Overall President of Everything

Cronin Chronicles

P.S. I love you ;-P

A Letter To Rhys: 2 Months Old

Dear Rhys,

This is a special letter to highlight some of the things I want to make sure I remember, as I'm learning quickly that this time with you is fleeting, and before I know it you'll go away to college, meet a nice girl, and never call.

You started smiling (the real 'social' smile that the books talk about) at 6 weeks. This, I'm told is quite early. Your dad & I believe you are very advanced for your age. Your Nana Cronin believes you are a 'Happy Soul'. People who come to visit you might not agree since you squirm & fuss sometimes when others are around. But your dad and I fuss & squirm when others are around too, so you come by it honestly.

Some of the nicknames we call you are:

Buster Brown, Baba Smooch, Baba, Dr.Jekyl, Mr. Hyde, The Hulk (you won't like him when he's angry...) and The Beast (when you wake up...The Beast Awakes!). Most of these names are in jest, because you are truly a very good baby.

When you have massive spit-up episode, your dad & I holler out "It's a massacre!".

Things I adore about your babyness:

1) Your soft fluffy hair after bath time.

2) The way you look in sleepers or 'Jimjams'.

3) Your baby-cellulite.

4) Your sweet little 'O' mouth.

5) Your chubby-cheek profile when you are nursing (and when you look up at me and smile when you are nursing - Yowsa, that's a doozy!!!).

6) The impossibly soft skin on the bottom of your feet.

Some milestones that we've noticed:

1) The smiling thing.

2) The strength you continue gain in your neck (your were born very strong & squirmy!)

3) You are just starting to attempt to control your arms & hands. You have managed to hit toys that dangle nearby with a focus that makes it seem somewhat intentional.

4) You have discovered your fists and enjoy sucking on them from time to time. We anxiously await the moment you discover your fingers!

5)You have outgrown the 'Double Swaddle' that we perfected. You have graduated to the Miracle Blanket for night time, and the Sleep Sack for daytime. You kicked your feet out of the Miracle Blanket last night, so you may soon graduate to the giant muslin blanket...

6) September 11 was your first night in your own room in the crib. You have officially graduated from the bassinet beside our bed at 8 weeks and 3 days old. Your dad & I both had a deeper sleep (we know this because we both had dreams for the first time in months). Your little night time grunts were no longer waking us all the time.

7) We've eaten out at East Side Mario's 4 times with you, 2 of those times were with other people. You were a Rockstar every single time.

9) The longest you have slept at night, without interruption, so far is 9 and a half hours.

One thing that is completely unique to YOU:

1) The 'Rhys-Hawk' hairdo. Business in the front, party in the back.

You & Papa on your 2-month anniversary:

Love you lots,
xoxx Mom

A Letter To Wellington (your new nickname)

15 wks


Dear Wellington,

I realise you're floating around inside my uterus, completely oblivious to the world carrying on around you. Meanwhile, on the outside, Warren & I are constantly thinking, talking and dreaming about you.

This morning we entered the prenatal clinic to a waiting room full of pregnant women and new mothers with infants. We were quite disturbed to notice that every one of them looked positively miserable. Oh CRAP. What have we done? Is this our future? However, we eventually chalked it up to the fact that likely anyone in a doctor's waiting room looks miserable.

We met the nice doctor and got to hear your heartbeat for the first time. The room was filled with big grins and long sighs of relief. One more milestone that helped make you feel more real to us. Glad you seem to be enjoying yourself so far. I'm finally starting to, too.

Now, I'm guessing this whole heartbeat thing will be one of the many, many things you do for us, without even knowing it, that will fill our hearts with love for you.

I know you didn't 'do' anything, per say, but thank-you. You are a very sweet baby.

Cheers,
Your Mom

A Letter To Little Gas

Dear Little Gas,

First of all, I'll address the obvious and apologize for the sad state of your current nickname. Trust me when I say I don't like the name at all and I hope it doesn't stick around for long. It came about when I was lying on the couch, rubbing my bloated stomach, moaning unhappily. Warren (your dad) saw me doing this and asked if I could feel a 'bump' yet. I said 'sorta, but it could just be a little gas'. In that moment you became our sweet Little Gas. Sorry about that. The other option was 'Demanding Beast Inside My Uterus', so this is probably the lesser of two evils.

Moving on to the point of this letter.

I've had a rough few weeks since I found out about you, I won't lie. Physically I've been feeling like hell (pardon my language), and emotionally I've been somewhat of a wreck. Crying over everything one minute, and giggling like a fool high on sugar the next. The thought of telling people about you makes me nauseous, so I don't. The thought of losing you deflates me, and there's nothing I can do to make sure it doesn't happen. I'm at the mercy of nature, and so are you. So I figured instead of continuing to go this alone, I'd reach out to you. I'd acknowledge you with a letter, and tell you that I am happy. I'm happy to have been thrown back into this so soon. Happy to have a husband who understands I'm going through a lot. Happy to have friends and family who, even though they are completely suspicious, do not pry too much. I am happy that big sweaters are in style (still need to get me some of those), and that tight pants can be explained away with the holidays. Now you know. I'm happy.

Hope you're doing okay in there. Chat soon.

Your Mom, Amanda.

A Letter From My Uterus

Dear 'Management',

Look, Lady.

We don't know who it is you think you are, but prancing around writing non-sensical letters to an imaginary union working inside your uterus is an indication of borderline dementia, wouldn't ya say?

Let's just imagine for a moment that we were willing to go along with this ridiculous notion, we would certainly point out the less-than-ideal working conditions in here. It's pitch black for God's Sake. You try doing your job when you can't see your computer screen or the numbers on the phone - never mind locating & accommodating a microscopic mass of cells.

We'd also certainly point out the lack of gratitude you have demonstrated for the years of dedicated service we've provided to this point. Until recently, Project Baby Bump had been strictly prohibited, and myself and my fellow workers have delivered exceptional results. Then suddenly you decide on a whim that no, Project BB is a good idea, and you expect that we switch gears on a dime. This is unrealistic and naive on your part.

However, we do want to pass on our heartfelt sympathies for the failure and subsequent losses that were experienced in June. We understand that such painful times would cause you to play the blame game and crack the whip. The reality is, however, that there is no union inside your uterus. There is no one to blame.

We hope that by writing that letter you were merely trying to express your anxiety in a satirical way, for your own journaling purposes. If this is not the case, then we suggest you seek help. NOW.

Cheers,
The non-existant union inside your uterus

A Letter To My Uterus

Dear Members of the UWU (Uterus Workers Union),

Management is concerned with the F08 results from last quarter. We realise that, by default, being members of a 'union' implies that you're not always concerned with 'results'. But this has got to change.

In Q4 we saw great gains in the months of April, May and early June, as we embarked on exciting new projects, namely, baby-making. Our successes were short lived however, and we saw the project go off the rails in late June. This did not please our shareholders. In fact, it took a great deal of negotiating to convince them to remain invested and confident in the future prospects of the aforementioned baby-making project (code name: BB for Baby Bump).

Members of the Board have also voiced concern, and are putting forward recommendations that they believe will aid future attempts at Project BB.

These recommendations include, but are not limited to:


1. No drinking on the job.


2. No slacking, office chit-chat or long coffee breaks, especially between days 11 and 25 of a regular shift.


3. Further to that, it is recommended that all holidays be taken while Senior Vice President Flo is in town.


4. Be on guard at all times. Stand at attention. Be ready. You want to be prepared for what might be coming down those tubes.


5. Make the uterine lining appealing to any arriving guests. Burn some incense, light some candles, spin some Leonard Cohen vinyl.


6. Should we be so fortunate as to have a guest stay for a while, it is crucial that all workers rally together to ensure our fragile friend(s) is(are) comfortable and satisfied with their accommodations.


7. Further to this, it is paramount that all workers tend to any needs, medical or otherwise, that may come up during their stay.



Management is excited for the future of the UWU and the BB Project, and we hope you all share in this excitement.



Valued members, we thank you for your attention to these matters. We wish you all a successful and prosperous future in the UWU.


Sincerely,
Management

Letter To Paris Baby #3

Dear Paris Baby,


Today is Father's Day and a few more people know about you now. Four more people to be exact, all of which will have a huge part in your new life with Warren & I. So, since you're just floating around in my belly these days, maybe you can start practicing their names...Sean, Sue, Rob, Tiff. See? They're nice & short & easy for you to pronounce. They were all thrilled to find out about you, with Tiff even screaming 'I can't wait!!!'. I'm finding it very overwhelming & emotional to think about how much you are already loved. Tiff even reffered to me as 'Mama' a couple times. No one had called me that yet, and I have to tell you - it felt odd. I have to warn you - I've never done this before. So be prepared for some trial & error. Okay?


You have been growing for about 10 weeks now, and this, I'm told, means you are officially a 'fetus'. I'm also told this means you have completed some very important blueprints for yourself, and you will commence some rapid growth that will continue over the next 7 1/2 months. So let's both take it easy, rest when we need to & eat when we need to, to ensure that growth happens nice and healthy like.


I'll talk to you later,

Your Mom

Letter To Paris Baby, #2

If my calculations are correct (and it's possible they are not), then Aunt Flo is approximately a day and a half late. In the past, she's been fairly reliable. On the pill, I could predict her arrival to date & time, give or take a couple hours. Then, off the pill, it was shaky for a month or so, but then back to nearly the same reliability. It will be a CRUEL coincidence if the first month she decides to be late also happens to be the first month I'm paying close attention in the hopes that you, Paris Baby, are growing in my belly.

I'll give her 2 more days to show her ugly face before taking a home test.

If she does show up, she's gonna have some 'splaining to do.

A Letter To Paris Baby

Dear Paris Baby,

First of all, I guess I should clarify one thing. You were not neccesarily conceived in Paris. You may have been conceived in London or, maybe even Bath. It's difficult to know for sure. So, maybe a more appropriate name for you is European Union Baby. Or EU Baby for short. But, I like the sound of Paris Baby, so I'll stick with that for now.

There's maybe one other thing I should clarify before I move on. There is a good possibility that you don't even exist. Which would mean the title of this post should be A Letter To Non-Existent Baby. Which would also mean, I have officially gone insane. So for the duration of this post, I will pretend you do, in fact, exist.

Warren & I (Warren is your Dad, but he's still Warren to me, so I will still refer to him as Warren, but I just want to make sure you understand who this 'Warren' guy is) have been talking about starting our family for a while now, but we decided our trip to Europe would be the official kick-off. I know you're way too young to understand the complexities of a woman's reproductive system - trust me - I barely understand them myself - but all you need to know is that the timing of this trip fell right on the 'perfect' time of my 'cycle'. Hopefully that's not TMI, but you're the Fruit Of My Loins for goodness sakes, so if I can't talk to you about these things, who can I talk to?

Needless to say, Warren & I were quite excited and delighted with our luck, because I seriously can't remember the last vacation we took where Aunt Flo didn't come along (you don't really have an Aunt named Flo - I'll explain another time).

Back to the complexities yada yada that you're to young to grasp yada yada...we are now back from this trip to Europe, but there are still a few days before we will know for sure if you exist. About 3 or 4 days ago, I was getting the bloated, back pain, crampiness that comes a week or so before Aunt Flo arrives. This was a bit disappointing. Having never been pregnant before, I have no idea if it's normal to experience PMS symptoms before a missed period. So, I told Warren (and myself) not to get his hopes up. But, today my 'symptoms' have felt a tiny bit different than I remember. They feel lighter, weaker, mixed in with the oddest 'fluttering' feeling - kind of like a tickle. I know the most likely explanation is wishful thinking, but a part of me is holding out hope.

I am not a superstitious person, so I have no problem writing to you about these things. You should know, some women won't so much as look at a cute onesie on sale if they are trying for a baby. But, here I am. I'm either writing to an unfertilized egg about to be washed out of my system just like every other month, or, I'm talking to a microscopic mass of cells that will someday be YOU.