Dear Malachi, I finally got to meet you.
I finally got to meet you!
Well, I guess, technically, I got to meet you when you were still a wee little thing in your mama’s belly a few months ago. But now. Now you are right in front of my eyes! And I am in love!
I love to hold you. And I love to rock you. And I love to rub your little belly. And I love to just sing your name over and over and over. “Hey little Malachi, don’t you cry. Hey little Malachi, you’re sweet as pie. Hey little Malachi, don’t be shy.”
It’s such a beautiful name.
And look, I know that everyone says this about their best friend’s baby, but you are the most handsome little boy in the world. Seriously. Your mom did a great job baking you.
Your little ittie, bittie hands are obviously going to make your daddy proud someday, when you throw footballs as the first string quarterback for the Super Bowl-winning Chicago Bears.
And you’re already showing signs of your athleticism. At just three weeks old, you are scooting up and down your mommy’s bed on your back. I bet if there was a race between you and all the other three-week-old babys in the neighborhood on who could scoot the fastest, you would totally win.
(As an aside, you should know that both your parents are the MOST competitive people in the world. Don’t be surprised if your mom turns random, daily things into a race early on. As in, “Let’s see how fast you can get dressed! And Go!” or “Let’s see who can pick up the most toys! And Go!!” And, while I haven’t known your dad as long as your mom, I can tell you that he can do more squats than anybody else, ever).
You are still so little and so adorable that you are in that wonderful stage when every single thing you do is gloriously noted.
“Look! He opened his eyes!”
“Look! He’s grabbing your hair! That’s so cute!”
“Look! He’s just laying there. Being awesome! Aww!!”
Ya, you’re pretty cool.
And your mom is pretty cool too. No. Seriously, she is.
She and I go way, way back. Like 15 years back. Or maybe 16. I sort of lost count.
Anyway, I can tell you from experience that she is going to do everything in her power on this planet to make sure you have the very best life possible.
She already is. She’s breast feeding, talking about cloth diapers, and from what I understand she didn’t even get an epidural! (That’s love right there).
I also want to tell you how beautiful she looks as new mom. I’m sure you already know that, but just in case, I wanted to say it again. She is seriously beautiful.
She claims to be exhausted, but her long, brunette hair hangs down her back when she holds you, and her skin is as clear as a summer sunrise.
In fact, the two of you make a pretty beautiful pair. You, with your soft, brown hair; her, with her gentle smile.
She held you today after a feeding, and you feel asleep on her shoulder, and she was content knowing you were content. And for the rest of her life, she will probably only be content knowing you are content.
But you seem to already know that. You fall into a deep sleep whenever you know she is near. And you never cry long once she picks you up.
You have total faith in her. And so do I.
Because like I said, she and I go way, way back. And if there’s anyone I know who could raise a baby boy, it’s her.
All I ask is that maybe you could start sleeping through the night a little earlier than you planned. I know that seems like a LONG six or seven hours, but your beautiful mom could use a full night’s rest.
Other than that though, just keep doing what your doing — being amazing.