Dear Jackson,

Baby you are 8 months old. You can sit, stand, and crawl. You can grab a bag of cereal off the couch, open it, eat the cereal, and then look up guiltily when you get caught. You like music, all music, and you like it loud. You love dancing with your Momma and she loves it too.

You still squeal to the top of your lungs every chance you get. You made your Momma carry you in the grocery store while she pushed the buggy because you broke down, screaming and crying when riding in the front of it.

You have 4 teeth and a temporary tattoo on your leg that your Momma put on there yesterday because she knew it would make her smile.

Baby it has not always been easy. There have been times that your Momma could do nothing for you but cry for you and herself at the same time. And then I see that 4 toothed smile, and I know that it was worth it. Every last seemingly unbearable moment was worth it all. I hear you happily babble and giggle like a little boy and I melt.

I want your life to always be this simple and happy. At the same time I know that it will be the hardships that define you as an individual. Thank you for being my sweet son. Thank you for completely turning my life upside down, it was just what I needed, you were just what I needed.

With Love,
Your Momma.