Dear Morris,
A whole half year since you came into our lives. Sometimes papa and I can't believe how much our life has changed since we were just a little family of two. We make jokes and laugh about it but then you fall asleep with your chunky, dimpled, perfect little fingers caressing our face or rubbing our arm. You cackle so hard when you're tickled or we disappear under a blanket. You get really silly climbing all over us in the morning, making loud noises and slobbering all over our face with wet kisses. Then, we can't imagine life without you.
You sit up wobbling one day but then sit up strong and sturdy the next and all the days that follow. You get closer and closer to crawling, planking far better than mama and papa. You become more and more independent, moving all over to get an object you want and focusing really hard to pick up your pacifier and put it in your mouth all on your own. We now have to really watch you so you don't roll or move too far. Luckily, no matter how far you roll when you hear your name or our voice, you always look up with that big two-tooth grin. Then, we can't imagine life without you.
You find the most convenient times to practice the volume and pitch of your voice like in the middle of shopping or while we're on the phone. You're favorite sound to make is very glottal, like a rolling r sound but in the back of your throat. It must be a Dutch thing because mama can't do it when she tries to repeat it back to you. This month you started sitting up in the stroller, moved into your childhood home, and you took your first nap in your very own room. We are already anticipating what our next year might look like, seeing how busy you already are- you’re curious to touch everything in sight such as zippers, lights, flowers, and the fluffiness of the carpet and of course, want to put it all in your mouth. Your eyes wander from thing to thing and back to us as if you’re waiting for us to answer every question. Then, we can't imagine life without you.
You know what you want and aren't scared to ask for it (like your papa). So while it's not terribly convenient for mama that you pretty much refuse to breastfeed anywhere other than cozy and lying down in bed these days, you are, for some reason, easier on everyone else and will take a bottle from them anywhere. In this way, you're proving to be quite flexible even with the move, mama going back to work, and all the changes happening. You somehow manage to be the happiest little guy. Then, we can't imagine life without you.
I can't help but think that all the moments, memories, trips, and decisions papa and mama ever made before you, had to align perfectly to bring you, specifically, into our lives on March 4th, six months ago.
You, this perfect little human who has a little bit of Papa Steve in his eyebrows, Opa Reint in his identical birth marks, the Kuiper family in that adorable little dot on his ear, papa in his nose, mama and Grandma Carrie in his face shape and smile, and the strength of the Horsthuis family and Oma Ine in those legs that push your cute little bum up some high. The blue eyes of Grandpa Joe and the West siblings. The addictive goofiness of Papa John, the sweetness of Grandma Judy and sweet tooth of Grandma Kels.
You are the perfect recipe of two different families from two different cultures in two different countries, on two different continents and each person we love shows more and more in your bright, bubbly little personality, every day. So, even though life was pretty darn great as two, pretty much everything you do reminds us we couldn’t imagine life without you. Being a family of three couldn't be any more special.
We love you, Morris Kuiper. Happy six months!