Dear Z,

This weekend, we took our little 4 and a half month old on his longest trip yet – more than six times longer than anything else he’s experienced. On top of the general, always-lingering dread of new parents, the night before had given us some pre-trip anxiety after our little man tossed, turned, and squawked for the entire 5-minute trip to the grocery store.

And yet, perhaps the greatest plot twist yet in our newly tenured position, we drove for close to ten hours with hardly a squeak or squawk. Just big smiles and and some light swatting at his ever-present elephant and bird, hanging off the handle to his car seat. Again and again, the same pair of words left our lips: “angel child.” Of course, this was due in large part to his guardian angel, who overcame a tendency towards carsickness to sit in the backseat this entire time: providing words of affirmation, milk, and the occasional “song-story” about aforementioned bird and elephant. Angel mama.

It’s hard to believe that just four short months ago, our son went from fearful abstraction to concrete reality. Four months ago, you were lying comfortably on your back for the first time in ages. Four months ago, I was having my first moments of alone time with our son. Four months ago, we were waking up in the middle of the night to a tiny 6-pound human asleep on our chest, arms reaching out as far as they could go, sinking down our sides. Four months ago, a few drops of milk filled his marble-sized belly, but those drops took hours of hard work to produce.

And now, here we are, going on road trips with our little man dressed in khakis and a denim vest. You up front in a bridesmaid dress and our little guy in the back, getting some quality time with his papa, answering the priest’s question, “Will all of you witnessing these vows do all in your power to support these two and their marriage?”, with a delighted, less than solemn, screech.

Yours,

S