A letter to my son at six months old

Little Prince,

Milestones?  Those are more just a set of guidelines, right?  (One day you’ll see this for the movie reference it is and you’ll role your eyes at me, “Dad, must everything have a movie quote with it?”  Yes, that’s the way I am.)  We don’t need Milestones.  You, my darling Little Prince, certainly don’t need them.

Five?  That’s the number of teeth you already have, nearly one for every month you’ve been alive.  You aren’t supposed to have any yet.  There they are.  Five little chomper bound and determined to chew, gnaw, bite on everything.  Everything.

Rolling over, both ways, both sides?  That’s an old trick, you’ve been doing that for so long you aren’t even phased by it anymore.  We put you on your back to change your diaper and you are onto your stomach before we can unclasp the dirty one you are in.  We put you on your stomach and you’ll happily roll away, giggling the whole time.

Crawling?  You don’t just crawl, you speed race across the floor when zeroed in on the toy you want, or the queen, or one of the cats.  From across the room into your mouth in seconds flat.  I swear I heard you break the sound barrier once.  Or, perhaps, that was just something getting knocked out of your way as you chased after the Queen.  You follow her around, watching her every movement, and when you can you crawl after her.  The cuteness breaks my heart.

Sitting on your own?  Sure.  That’s easy.  You can even sit and twist and turn and shove things in your mouth without falling over anymore, much to the Queen’s delight since she was growing weary of worrying about you falling on your head.  I guess I was worried too, and still worry when I see you sitting near the tile floor or the coffee table or any of the other things that aren’t quite baby-proofed yet.  But, I’m so proud of you, and when you look up from your toy and see me smiling at you, you smile back.  It’s amazing.

You can pull yourself up to standing too?  Why not?  You’ve gotten everything else figured out ahead of schedule.  So, go ahead, pull yourself up on your crib, on the couch, on me…  and then dream of what comes next.  You already know how to move your feet.  You know you’ll be walking soon.   I can see that glint of mischief in your eyes.  I can see you figuring out how to get your prize.  I can see the gears turning, that you are learning, for that first step yearning.

It will be yours before the Queen and I are ready.  That isn’t your concern though.  We will just keep doing our best to adapt with you as you grow and learn and exceed all of our expectations.  And please be patient with us when you hear us jokingly ask if you wouldn’t mind stopping for a bit – no more growing, no more learning, no more milestones surpassed way ahead of schedule.  We are joking.  We are so proud.  But, we already miss the infant you were, the faces, the noises, and you are growing so fast you seem to out grow each new trick as quickly as we’ve gotten used to spotting it.

That’s okay though, as I said before that’s not for you to worry about.  You keep being you, and we will keep doing our best.

I love you son,

Matticus

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56 thoughts on “A letter to my son at six months old

  1. Wait until he climbs out of his crib and surprises the s_ _ t out of you. My daughter climbed out of her crib while I was downstairs typing (on a typewriter…that’s how old I am), butt walked down the stairs, and snuck up behind me. “Hi Mommy!” Yowza! Didn’t expect that! I had to balance the celebratory excitement “Wow! Look what you’re able to do now!” with the determination that she stay in her crib, get some sleep, and leave me alone. Good luck!

    • We aren’t too far away from that… since he is already pulling himself up using the top of the crib, soon he’ll be learning to launch himself over the bar, and then the walking… Oh my.

  2. I hope that one day when your prince has surpassed the cliche milestones of graduation and has moved on to pursue his life that you will share this with him. It is truly heart-warming.

  3. DJ,
    You tell me all the time what a wonderful father I am. So to you I say…it takes one to know one. Don’t blink. Treasure every moment. They DO grow fast and if you blink or even look away for a second you’ll miss something. Watching your child learn new things is a gift greater than any other.

    • Thank you. Yes, the queen was lamenting after reading my post this morning that are so many things he used to do that he doesn’t do anymore… hopefully we captured some of them in film and video, but we definitely didn’t get them all, and now they are gone…
      I’ve never felt more pride than watching him figure out how to pull himself up to standing and then turn and face me and smile at me, “Look what I did, daddy.” I saw! 😀

  4. They do grow so, so fast. Even when they’re completely grown it’s still the same amount of awesome seeing them go out in the world and start their lives. I loved so much watching my kids grow. I loved it so much I had Sam so I could do it all over again 😉

  5. Reblogged this on Johnbalaya and commented:
    My blogger friend Matticus, over at The Matticus Kingdom, posted this wonderful letter to his six month old son …. it’s worth reading . And, it’s worth stopping by The Matticus Kingdom… short stories, flash fiction, a poem or two, a love letter to his wife, The Queen … as far as kingdoms go, this one is a pretty darn cool place to visit.

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