Merry Christmas and Happy Three month birthday, my beautiful girl! Christmas will never be the same for me again. You were one smart cookie, choosing the 25th like that. Packages have been arriving for a week or so now, and the table is covered in TAVY presents. You are all the present I need, and to see you so loved is such a delight.
Each year I am in Oregon, I miss my family in a slightly different way. This year is especially painful because I wish they could all share your first Christmas without selling their souls to UPS. I want you to see Clanna's Christmas village, taste Uncle Matthew's potato soup, have a huge crazy Christmas dinner in New York, play with your second cousins in South Carolina, share Grandma Donna's holiday traditions, and experience all of the many ways to celebrate Christmas with family.
I spent four years on the fringe of my family at holidays for no good reason, not appreciating having such a large chunk of them in driving distance. Not caring how badly I hurt my mother, year after year, even as she continued to try so hard. Now that I am a mother, I regret this more than anything. I hope that you are much smarter than your Mama. I don't think you can fully appreciate family and tradition until you have a family of your own. You've made us a family, and transformed our extended family as well.
This past month has certainly focused on family. Mama turned 29 on December 4, and funny enough, she's turning 29 next year too. You were very laid back at my birthday dinner, and it was easily my favorite birthday yet.
Each morning when we wake up (from sleep, glorious sleep--you've even slept in your crib several nights this month), I change you, and at a certain point, you stretch fully awake and smile up at me and I know that I am Mama. However the day devolves after that, the moment is pure joy. Then you eat breakfast, and Mama eats breakfast while you play.
You can hold more objects now. and you're very good at getting them into your mouth. You like playing with the linky-do rings hanging in your swing, and you enjoy laying on your back in the crib, swatting at Babar and a rotating guest cast. 
Babar is still the clear favorite though. You can do more with him this month, intentionally tugging him towards you, grabbing his pocket, batting at his ball, and shaking his ear. You like Christmas carols, classical music, Folk Alley, and Uncle Monkey's rap, but the tinny music box is also still a favorite, and you kick it on and off-- still largely by accident.
Just like I wouldn't have pegged Babar as your favorite toy, I couldn't have predicted your favorite blankie. You adore the popcorn blanket that Clanna knit for me 30 years ago. It's the perfect size--a simple carriage sized rectangle. You like it's heft and the feel of the nubbly texture and fringe. You settle down whenever I place it on you, and it often encourages you to stay napping.
I try to narrate my day for you, and you laugh and smile when I narrate getting ready after my shower. Naked Mama is just too funny, especially when she sings for you. I try to read to you each day, and you really love the nursery rhyme cards my Auntie L sent you. You try to grab them out of my hands, and you like to study the bold black type (to heck with the pictures!). I delight in your little grabs and reaches.
Mainly though, your own hands are toy enough. You've spent hours this month gnawing away. 
And with good cause too, because lady, you've got some chompers with two teeth trying to break free. Mama would have been happy had your teeth decided to wait until, oh say, THREE, but like everything else, you have your own agenda. And right now, that agenda is "GET THESE TEETH HERE NOW," with "more pissy, more teeth, more quickly" as your motto.
I keep worrying that I've broken you because pissy has been your middle name the last few weeks. You still smile and babble, but that fist is always there waiting for action, and the screeching isn't far behind. But then you will test out a laugh, or roll to your side as you tackle Babar, and I'm amazed all over again. I miss your tiny crunched up one-month self and your sentence-long-babbling and smiling two month sel, but I love, love, LOVE three months, teething and all. You're so self-aware now and independent without being mobile yet. And you sleep. Did I mention the sleep? Sleep is beautiful.
You like to test things out right now--rolling, screeching, whining, cackling, yelling, and reaching for plates, necklaces, shirts and beards. We can play little games--row, row, row your boat, "where's mama?"
"trot, trot," "flying Tavy," and your absolute favorite, "climbing Mama Mountain." You LOVE to stand. You plant your feet and stand as long as possible. You try to climb and walk with big steps while we hold your weight. You've started trying to stand when I hold you sitting.
You don't roll completely over yet, but man can you hold that head up! You like laying face down on Daddy's arm or my lap, head held high, conducting vital research into the state of our floors. You like it when I drum on your belly, and you relax as Daddy pats you to sleep. Of course, Booby is still your preferred sleep drug. I don't understand mothers who don't want to nurse to sleep, or who want to break their 3 month-olds of this habit. This is the sweetest thing, and it's become one of my favorite parts of the day.
This month has made all the hard early weeks of nursing so worth it. You pat the booby lovingly, sometimes giving it a little squeeze or holding my shirt, and you latch yourself on now. You get excited when you see the pillow coming, and sometimes you pull back to smile up at me. It's one of the most intense, enjoyable, and pleasurable experiences of my life. There's something really satisfying about doubling the size of a small human. You're turning into a little linebacker, and I tell you all the time how luscious you are. I gobble you up like a Christmas goose.
We went to a Christmas party, and for the first time, I was THAT woman. The one with the scrumptious baby clamoring to be the center of attention. I saw how proud the legions of mothers whose babies I have held and admired must have felt, and also how they must have missed their babies from across the room. I have to stop myself from snatching you back! It was one of the best parties I've ever been to, but my favorite moment was changing you alone in the bedroom where your smiles were just for me while the party swirled on around us.
And that's this month: a Mama and Tavy cocoon. The more I know you, the more protective I am. I know you better than anyone and that's a heady, wonderful feeling. I'm drunk on Tavy. Of course, no mama is an island, and you are part of a large, loving family who all want to be a part of your first Christmas. Their love arrived in white envelopes, brown paper packages, phone calls, and emails. I hope every baby is this loved, this beautiful in the eyes of their mama, but none can compare to my Tavy girl.
Love,
Mama 12/25/07
