"A baby is born with a need to be loved - and never outgrows it."
It's 5 o'clock in the morning on July 12, 2013. I just got over being sick with bronchitis and a sinus infection and I missed not being able to hold my sweet, 5 month old baby Evan. You woke me up at 4:30 with a high pitched squeal. You had somehow managed to completely cover your face with a blanket that Mrs. Holland had made you. I took the blanket off your eyes to reveal your sweet smile. Perk-a-boo is one of your favorite games,that is after spitting. For literally the last 15 minutes, I've laid here on our couch in our town home while you have been spitting and making faces at me. It's all I can do to not burst out in to laughter at you with your silliness. You should be getting a tooth now any day and you take so much joy in spitting. Yes, I have taken several videos of you doing this to show you when you get older. Yes, I do plan on going in to your room at 5 or 6 in the morning when you are a teenager to make spitting sounds to keep you awake at night. Just kidding, although the thought has crossed my mind several times. I have to be at a meeting in 5 hours, but I haven't slept yet, oh well!
You are starring at me in hopes of a response of laughter, and I'm trying my hardest to avoid eye contact and just write this out.
Your smile is so enchanting and you are so sweet. I can't wait to see how your personality develops as you grow in to a young man of God.
Did I mention your new obsession with your feet? When I pause from writing to check to make sure you're ok, all I see is your feet up in the air and you trying to eat your toes.
I love you so much with a love that is different from any other kind. You are my baby boy, and I will do my best to guide you down the road God has called you to take.
