Dear Corbin,
You are one month old today. I will try to avoid using a massive amount of clichés here, and simply say that we love you so very much and we are so happy that you are here with us. It’s been an eventful month for you. Your grandparents Lam were here for several weeks to smother you with grandparent love. You have met various friends of ours. You made your first trip to the grocery store and to Home Depot, where everyone wanted to see you and to know how old you were. Everyone warned me about strangers being intrusive when I was pregnant, but you’re getting much more attention now than you ever did when you were in my belly. You also went out to breakfast for the first of what will be many, many times. In fact, if our usual schedule of going out for breakfast at least once per weekend continues, you’ll be eating breakfast with us at least 936 times before you leave for college.
You have already outgrown your newborn clothing. We can tell simply by looking at you that you grow bigger every day. Your eyes have already darkened to brown, like mine, but we can only speculate about the rest of your features. You make funny sounds, and funny faces, and your father is funny when he imitates you. You are happiest when we’re holding you, which means you and I do a lot of sitting on the couch watching DVDs of The West Wing. That might sound like the easy life, but we’re watching the seasons made after Aaron Sorkin left the show, so there is an element of sacrifice going on.
The weather is getting nicer, and your father and I are trying to start some yard work projects. Maybe by the time you’re walking we’ll have managed to grow some grass in the front yard. Maybe. For right now, I’m just happy that my spring coat fits me again, even if most of my pants still don’t. But nicer weather also means that you and I can get out and take some walks. Assuming, that is, that you’ll let me get up off the couch.
Love,
Mom
