Dear Noah

Dear Noah,

It is safe to say that life changed forever as of September 15, 2005. My little man was born.

I didn't have any proof that you were a boy until 8:36 p.m. when you finally exited the premises and graced the world with your presence. I knew in my heart you would be a boy before you were even conceived. And though I never gave any thought to the name prior to the months before your birth, I knew your name was Noah. Daddy was hesitant, because Daddy likes common names that could not possibly be ridiculed. (Little did he know "Noah" would be in the top 15 of popular names 3 years later!)God had to do some convincing, but Daddy ended up sure that Noah you must be.


Noah means "rest." It seemed appropriate when you spent the first two weeks of your life doing little but sleeping. But now that you are three and 48 pounds of boundless unrelenting energy, it seems a little incongruous.

It's true, you give your mommy little "rest" these days, but still there is something, beneath all those layers of over sized preschooler hyperactivity, in spite of the frequent uncalled for screeches out of nowhere at the dinner table, regardless of the complete absence of volume discretion when you use your voice... that speaks peace to me. Who would think that such a crazy little boy is actually thoughtful, observant, perceptive to the feelings of others, and empathetic beyond his years?

God knew what He was doing when He gently insisted that you be named Noah. And God has a plan for your life. I'm so excited to see what He will do through you to affect the world around you for His glory. I'm so glad that the sleepy 9 1/2 pound, red-headed baby boy I held in my arms one quiet Thursday night 3 1/2 years ago has become the tall, solid red-headed little boy I spend my days with now. I'm glad that you love your sisters. I'm glad that you walk in your Daddy's shadow. I'm glad for your jokes and your deafening belly laugh and your monster sounds and your aptitude for figuring out a problem.

Noah, you bring rest to my soul.

Love,
Mommy