Dear Mason,
Where do I even begin? I have been thinking about writing this post for what seems like forever but alas, I still cannot come up with the appropriate words. What can I possibly say about you that I haven't said before? You should know everything by now. You should know how much I love you, my lingering guilt over the first couple months of your life, how you are the love of my life, my sunshine, my rain, my heart. 

Your personality is still the same. You are a ball of fire and a breath of fresh air all at the same time. You melt not only my heart, but everyone else's around you. You are wonderful, beautiful and every other adjective that could possibly describe LOVE and BEAUTY. I read over all of the Dear Mason posts. Every single one of them. It is amazing to see the transformation in you and in myself. You changed who I am and I will never be that same. You made me a mother.
Even when you push me away and bite and scratch and pull my hair in frustration, I am still bursting with love. Even when I call you a "little shit" or yell "no no no no no NO!" for a straight hour my insides are melting with love.You are the only thing in my life that is absolutely perfect in every way. And this is what I want to tell you: Your life will not be perfect. Your relationships, dreams, marriage, house, car, bank account, family, etc etc...they will never be exactly like you imagined them. Do not let this take you under. Do not even for one second dwell on any of it. Please be happy. Be the best person you can be. Be yourself and speak your mind. Put 110% into everything you do, even if it is someone else's 10%. That's all I will ever ask of you. I just want you to be you because that is the most important thing you can be. I will always be your mother and you will always be my Mason. No matter what.
This is officially the last post here. Head on over to my new blog for a good time.




Mason, do you know that in the last week you have visited 3 new states, rode a Metro, rode down an escalator, went on your first amusement park ride, stayed in not one but THREE hotels, visited your nations capital and made countless otherwise-grumpy people smile? Well, believe it. I will admit, taking a 10 month old baby on a road trip in theory sounds like the working of a crazy person, but you were WONDERFUL. You only had one meltdown, and who wouldn't after being through what I put you through last week?
You swam your little heart out. I am going to predict that you are the next Michael Phelps. I have never seen such a little man want to swim so badly. You scream (happy screams) every time we get in the water and you kick your legs until you fall asleep - which you did on the last night of our trip, in the pool. Hilarious. You are into EVERYTHING these days. In fact, I have to make a trip to the big baby store to buy more locks for the cabinets since you think it is funny to mess with mommy's wine paraphernalia - hint: NEVER mess with mommy's wine paraphernalia.
Your dad and I still go to bed every night and gush about how much we love you, how cute you are and how we cannot believe how big you are getting. You clap, you lift your arms when we yell "touchdown", you crawl, you wave, you say "dada" among other things, you pull up to stand on everything, you cruise and more that I am sure I am forgetting. I really think that I even heard you practicing the word "cat" quietly to yourself a few times. Going out places is so fun now because all you do is flirt. You get so excited when you see new people and love to look around. You are so vocal and are constantly making some kind of noise.
You have a very analytical mind, which is not surprising given who your father is. You study EVERYTHING and love to open and close, open and close, open and close whatever you can find (which includes my laptop, good times). You have more personality than some adults I know, which you of course got from your mother. Another lovable trait (or not) that you inherited from you dad is the ability to fall asleep at pretty much any given time- as long as you are tired. You have now fallen asleep THREE, yes THREE times in your highchair during lunch. I remember when I used to cry, yell, beg and plead for you to JUST GO TO SLEEP. Sometimes I wish I could remember those early days (or months) better so I could document what EXACTLY I did to cause this.
Every day gets better and better with you. You laugh over nothing, you still cry over nothing (it's okay, momma does too), you make the best expressions and cutest noises. You are becoming a cuddler (I am doing my damnedest) and an ornery little boy all at the same time. I hope and pray that you will be a momma's boy, because so far I have been jipped in this whole thing. Your dad's looks, brain, athletic ability and narcolepsy versus my personality. I just need to know that I am doing an okay job and that you are happy - and your favoritism. Is that too much?
I love you.


When I realized that I only had 3 minutes to make the 10 minute drive to swimming yesterday, I didn't panic like I once would. I smiled. I looked back at your reflection in your extra-large mirror (another on the must-have list) and I smiled. I was late for a swimming class. Not a client meeting. I have a son, and since I was too busy playing with him to notice the time, I was running late...to his swimming class. The anxiety I once felt is gone. Whether it is mommy's crazy pills, the expensive therapy sessions, or just plain LOVE, the bad stuff has disappeared - all because of a little, fat, happy baby named Mason.
You are a rolling machine. ROLLING. Something that once caused me a sleepless night (OMG, my son is BEHIND, there is something wrong, why is he not rolling, he has autism!!!) came and went in a blink of an eye. You roll like crazy. You are normal. There is nothing wrong with you that you didn't inherit from your parents - and that is that you do things on your own time, not when some stupid author/doctor/random lady at the grocery store tells you you should. You are a little fish. You giggle at nothing and everything. You talk to the microwave. You roll. You warm hearts. You light up rooms. You are irresistible. You are mine.
You have no idea how incredibly lucky you are. Do you know how many built-in friends you have already? You have 2 cousins that are within 7 months of your age either way, a new friend that was born yesterday, another 3 on the way, and don't forget the 4 other cousins you have that are older, wiser, and probably the ones who will at one point in your life invite you to little sibs weekend at their colleges, or buy you beer when you aren't quite 21. You also have an extended group of baby-friends that are the children of mommy's internet friends. And DOGS! DOGS! are your friends. You love DOGS!
Every month gets better and better with you. I go to bed at night thinking, "how can I possibly love him any more?" but somehow, you make me. My heart just bursts every time you smile at me.
in such a short amount of time. You want to hold your bottle, and sit up by yourself and not be rocked or sang to. "Just put me in my damn crib already so I can go to sleep mom!" I never get sick of people telling me what a good baby you are, and how easy you are. I know I am lucky. Even when your dad and I try to escape for a night all we can do is talk about you and mimic your laugh and raspberries and little quirks. I cannot stop thinking about the past 6 months and how much you have changed and what a ride it has been. How you went from a non-sleeping baby to a 3 hour napper. I always worried what kind of mother I would be and how on earth I could ever raise a child to be the best person they could be, but I think I am doing a damn fine job so far.




