Dear Kelly,

Your first month of life has literally flown by. With a first child, you count every day, praying to God you survive. The first month is longer than an entire college education. With you, I’ve enjoyed the moments so much, it feels like a long weekend.

You, my precious kitten, are a quiet soul. A gentle spirit. An absolute pleasure to get to know. Even when you are awake, you are calm. I can feel the calm emanating from you. It’s contagious and a wonderful addition to our team. I’ve known you were calm from conception, and for once in motherhood be proven right…well, it’s refreshing.

You’ve put up with us like a trooper: baths, constant on-the-go, Sara perpetually trying to stick her finger in your eye. And then once a day, your break out in this gummy grin that seems to say, “Oh you! My gracious I’m happy to see you!”. You’ll let anyone hold you. You’ll sit contentedly about anywhere. Honestly, last night, your Daddy and I started to seriously ponder if maybe we were given the wrong baby at the hospital. We’ve decided not to say anything. You are the lottery of all newborns, and we’re keeping you.

You are however, a grunter. Not a crier. But man, can you ever grunt. You have as many grunts as Hoosiers have words for redneck. So this morning, as you were grunting and Sara was bellowing about God-knows-what, I had a vision of your teen years. You and Sara are going to be telling me about the new jeans you must have, that everyone has them, and you MUST have them. Today. They are only $500, and they never go on sale because the proceeds go to support pop stars in rehab. I’m going to tell you both that if I won the lottery I wouldn’t spend $500 on a pair of jeans because it’s so outrageous, it actually breaks laws of physics. And you’ll both tell me that I don’t understand. I, after all, wear jeans from Banana Republic, and only OLD women shop there.

I will tell you about Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, and that everyone had the gold swan Vanderbilts, and I just had to have the blue swans. Icy blue. Sara will storm off, loudly calling her BF while texting 120 of her closest friends. You Kelly, you will grunt. Just grunt as you skulk off to your room. So you can listen to The Cure, and think thoughts about how I probably never listened to The Cure, silently mulling in your teenage angst. But your Dad will repeat something he actually said to me a couple of weeks ago. He said that he’d love me, even if I wore Mom jeans. A statement so profoundly loving, that it rivaled my wedding vows.

Your Dad is reading this post and thinking the pregnancy hormones have caused permanent brain damage. And to that I’ll just say, “I went to the store because I was out of cheese….”….see Greg? Now you are laughing too. (Inside joke, my apologies).

But then your Grandmas will call, and will mention that they need help with yard work. They’ll throw a couple of sticks onto the lawn and beg for your help, and will help you “earn” the money for those ridiculous jeans. To which I’ll moan “MOOOMMM”, you’re not teaching them anything. I’ll be wrong. They will be teaching you that Grandma Sally loves you more than her carpet, right after it is vacuumed. Grandmommy Carolann loves you more than a football arena sized store filled with nothing but tablecloths, all on clearance. And she has a coupon. Kelly, that’s real love.

So Miss Millie Polka Dot, thank you for this month. Your hair is falling out. You’re covered with acne. We may be too loud and wild for you, but we love you to pieces. I think you may have inherited our coordination. Not good. Here’s a shot of you trying to suck your fingers for the first time. You kind of missed.

Love that goes on forever, Mommy