So... You're a month old.

It has been a month since you arrived to meet us. While life has definitely changed for your Mom and me, it hasn't been the wholesale transformation that people talk about. Which is good, because we kind of liked our lives before you got here. That said, we like our life so much better now that you're in it. Seeing your little smile is the new favorite part of my day everyday. Watching you go from a hysterical screaming fit to instant calm just because you get a pacifier or something similar is equal parts hilarious and frustrating. Really - that's all you wanted? That's what all that noise was about?

Your parents apologize now for how spoiled rotten you are going to be. (Or are since you're probably reading this while playing with whatever gadget you couldn't live without that we couldn't resist getting for you.) We can't put you down. We love holding you and putting you up on our shoulder or to our chest. Kisses on top of your little blonde head are the best. Kisses on your nose are a close second. Your BeBe has declared you perfect and a doctor has even given his assent to that declaration. We all agree.

So forgive us for how rotten you have become. We couldn't help ourselves. Even when we went for a stroll in the batmobile (the black stroller with all the accessories) I couldn't help but pick you up when we got to Jackson Street. I pushed an empty stroller the rest of the way home. We really don't even need the two strollers at this point. Or the crib. That big round crib that took about six hours to put together the night of the Boise State v. Virginia Tech game. You've slept in it a good 45 minutes since you've been home. We just have to have you with us.

We snuck down to Tuscaloosa for a TROY basketball game. You stayed with BeBe and Pops. We missed you and thought about you the whole time. Instead of getting delicious wings from Phil's (you are going to love Phil's when you're older) we just got in the car and headed home. We had to get back to you.

Last Friday, your Aunt Michelle and Aunt Trish did their thing at their new place, The Magnolia Room. It was great and we had a great time, but BeBe called and said you needed your Mom. Mom jumped up and said, "It's time to go" and away we went. It is just too hard being away from you for any length of time. We are just so afraid we're going to miss something.

You've already grown so much. Your TROY onesie is already a little snug. That's okay, because your TROY t-shirt is waiting to be called into action. Your little Auburn footies are already too small. You're not far from being able to wear your Michelle Malone Homegrown onesie. Dad's already got a great picture idea for when that time comes. Yes, Wynn, we're sorry for all the pictures. You don't really like the flash on the camera that much. We're preemptively sorry for showing them to your first date.

So life has changed some, no doubt. But really, we just added an element. You. And it is a natural fit. Sure, we sleep less and at odd times. We can't just "go" somewhere without some planning. I had never changed a diaper before you showed up and now I can get you undressed, changed cleaned up, redressed and dispose of the diaper in under a minute. And that's even with the time it takes to apply something called butt paste. Seriously, that's what it is called. Times have changed since that first hospital diaper the nurse patiently guided me through.

But we still get to see our friends. Your Aunt Cat has been over a couple of times to sip wine with your Mom. Your Dad is still going to get to coach basketball. Friends bring you (okay us) food almost every night. I haven't eaten this well since before I was married. I still get to crack jokes at Mom's expense. Obviously. You just get to take part. That's the only difference. Ala Will Ferrell from Wedding Crashers - a movie you should not have seen until you were 16, but that I probably let you watch at around 9 -when you're hungry, you yell at your Mom for "meatloaf." "Mom, Meatloaf!!!! What's taking so long?!?! MEATLOAF!!!" And sometimes we take pictures of Mom's rear end in the mirror while she's bent over giving you a bath and post them on the internet.

We still get to go out to dinner and listen to music. We just come home a little earlier. Buffett and Bogey are great babysitters. BeBe and Pops are better. There is a line of high school girls waiting to babysit you. Where were you 18 years ago?

Dad still gets to watch his games. He just has someone sleeping on his chest now while their on. Which actually works out great for Dad because now I've got a great excuse for asking Mom to fix me a sandwich and a drink. Before I just did it because I was lazy. See, Wynn, you're actually Daddy's little helper already.

Hopefully, by the time you're reading this, you'll have been taught by some glorious English teacher all about tenses and first, second and third person. Daddy had all those teachers and did really well in those classes back when he "applied himself". Daddy realized at the time that first, second and third person rules were really kind of silly and that a writer's style shouldn't be confined by such silly rules, despite what all the books said - but I went along with them because you had to get an 'A'. (See what I did there Wynn? I shifted from third to first person right in the same sentence. And it was fine. The world didn't explode and sometimes you can do creative things with sentences by doing that. Just a tip from Dad.)

And it is also okay to start sentences with "and." Some glorious English teacher will tell you not to. And you shouldn't in her class because you're going to need to get that 'A'. And you should do what your teacher tells you. And that is especially true if your teacher is Aunt Jess. And in doing so however you should also understand that while it is okay to sometimes start a sentence with 'and', the real risk is doing it to much. And the reason for that is that sometimes it becomes distracting for readers. And we don't want to do that.

So... you've had a brief rundown on what your life has been like during your first month. You've had an important life lesson. Sure, the teacher may be wrong, just do what she says and we'll fix it later. Grades matter. I left out all the peeing and pooping and spitting up, because I wouldn't want you to embarrassed later in life when reading this. I mean, do you really need to know about your little mustard looking poops. No one needs to hear about that. Likewise, no one needs to know how gassy you were as a little guy. And how Mom and I laughed each time a "barking spider" ran out of sight.

No, you just need to know about all the special people that have written you notes, brought you presents, stopped by to see you and sent messages about how wonderful and beautiful you are. You need to know how loved you are. You need to know how everyone schedules their days around you to be able to hold you. You need to know you like looking at the TV, but like looking out the window more.

You need to know that people your Dad hasn't seen in ten years called him to say how special you are. You need to know you like baths. You don't like being taken out of the bath. But then you like being wrapped up in a towel. You need to know the towel usually has ears. You need to know how everytime you do something for the first time, your Mom cries. You need to know your Dad does too. You need to know sometimes your Dad cries when he types things about you on your blog. You need to know sometimes we cry for no reason at all other than we're holding you and we love you so much. You need to know your Aunt Carrie stops by to see you every time she passes through town. You need to know she seldom did that before. You need to know your Uncle Caleb asks about you first thing in every correspondence from Taiwan. You need to know your MeMe and Grandaddy started you a college fund the day you were born. You need to know how to break down a zone and use a killer crossover so you can get a scholarship and use that college fund on a car. Okay, that's later that you need to know that. But you're still going to need to know it. You need to know you don't always cry when your diaper is being changed. You need to know when you're not looking, Bogey steals your Boppy. You need to know when another dog got close to you, Bogey stepped in front of you and growled. You need to know Buffett licks you on the head when he thinks no one is looking. You need to know Miss Foxx next door came inside, sat down and visited. You need to know she had never done that before. You need to know she did it again. You need to know it was just an excuse to hold you. You need to know you have been able to hold your head up since you were six hours old. You need to know how two days ago, your eyes and head turned as you watched your Mom walk across the room - you followed her the whole way. You need to know how great Dad felt when he got to feed you out of a bottle the first time. Yes, he cried at that too. You need to know you can sleep for more than five hours at a time - and you need to do it more often. You need to know its alright if you don't sleep anymore than that because that means we're awake and spending more time with you. You need to know you're getting big so fast. You need to know you have little baby acne. Right on the tip of your nose. You need to know it is adorable. You need to know Mom and Dad found out you were on your way on our 3rd Anniversary. You need to know your Aunt Ginny-Vick rushed right over. You need to know Dad really can't sing, but its okay that he does as long as it makes you happy. You need to know all the songs we've made up about you. You need to know that there is a meaning to life. You need to know there is a purpose to your life. You need to know you probably won't know it until you have your first child. You need to know that your Dad would write more often on your blog, but every second he's doing that is time he's not with you.

To be continued...