Sundays with Mac

My dearest Mac,

I can hardly believe that it has been six months since you arrived in this world. In a way it seems like just yesterday that our hearts stopped beating as we waited for you to cry for the first time. But it also feels like forever. It’s hard to imagine that there was ever a time when you weren’t in our lives.

I’ve avoided taking your sixth month photo all week. I was trying to convince myself that if I didn’t take the picture it wouldn’t be true. People always say that time speeds up when you have children but I had no idea that it would whiz by faster than those Nascar racers that your Grampa likes so much. Days have just seemed to blend into the next and now, suddenly, it is six months later.

Month five was your best month yet. Smiles and giggles have been plentiful. And if cuddles were currency your mommy and I would be very rich.

You had a few unhappy days as your teeth started to emerge but we made it through.  Your Gramma came for a long visit and you napped for 2 hours on her chest every day. I can only convince you to stay asleep for about 30 minutes. I think you liked that menopause has made her as warm and cozy as a roaring fire. Your toasty little body probably only made matters worse but she didn’t complain. Your auntie Tata visited you nearly ever day and delighted in your giggles. And the two of you had your first Valentines Day (or Saturday before Valentine's day as the case may be) date together. You made her watch Charlie Brown and then fell asleep on her shoulder. She didn’t complain either. And you had lots of visits from other aunts and uncles and friends who all love you dearly.

Mac, auntie Tata and The Fergus

One of the best parts about month five has been your weekly Mommy-and-Baby-No-Mamas-Allowed-Mall-Dates. It began as a way for your mommy to take you out of the house for a few hours so I could write this blog but it quickly became the highlight of your week. And your mommy’s too.

She dresses you like a little man. Or, I suppose you could say like a little lesbian as your extensive wardrobe is modeled after hers. When you see the pictures showing how handsome you looked I think you’ll forgive us for that. You might have your dad’s lips and your mama’s eyes but at six months old you certainly have your mommy’s sense of style.

Every Sunday afternoon she snaps the Ergo carrier around her waist, bundles you into your snow suit, and heads to the St. Laurent Mall. If you are old enough to be reading this you will now know that our family has a strange attachment to the St. Laurent Mall. When your mommy and I were just dating we went to that mall, ate Thai food, and did a little Valentine’s Day shopping. We ended up choosing our own presents and had a great night. I still wear the earrings from that first Valentine’s Day date almost every day. We enjoyed ourselves so much that we decided to make it a tradition. Dinner at the food court and buying our own presents might not sound like a glamorous date to most but your mom and I are suckers for a tradition.

And just like us, you love it there. She takes you up and down the escalator and your eyes scan back and forth taking in all the lights and pictures and people. You coo and squeal for all the grandmothers who come over for a quick hello. And then when you are all done wandering (and your mommy has spent most of her money) you head over to the food court where she has a coffee and you have your bottle. You sit on her lap, bang your hands on the table, and entice strangers to come over and say hello.

On your last Mommy-and-Baby-No-Mamas-Allowed-Mall-Date you started to smile and coo at somebody else’s mommy. She came over and talked to your mom, wanting to exchange stories of baby smiles and sleepless nights. Always one to be honest and upfront your mommy was looking for a way to let the other woman know that you actually grew in your mama’s belly. And then, half way through the conversation, she realized that your relationship needed no explanation.  Because, you see my sweet Mac, while I was growing you in my belly your mommy was busy growing you in her heart. And if you learn anything from me my son let it be that hearts are more important than bellies.

You were so excited when you got home from your date. You chattered away endlessly, telling me all about your adventures in your very own baby language. It is a dialect that I can’t understand with my ears but speak fluently with my heart. And then your mommy, with tears in her eyes, told me about how she didn’t correct the woman in the mall who thought that you grew in her belly. She picked you up and kissed the top of your head and whispered you are mine in your ear. Because, my darling boy, you are hers and she is, entirely, yours. She is a real mom. She is your real mommy. And gosh you are so lucky to have her.

Happy sixth month birthday Macaroni. Thank-you so much for filling our lives with joy.

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