every day, little bean, you do something new. you now notice and love the mobile hanging above your swing and you love the dangly toys from your playstand. you haven’t quite mastered grabbing things yet — the concept of opening your fingers to grasp something hasn’t yet occurred to you — but you try! and your little tiny fingers sometimes makes their way around the plastic links and little balls and multiple giraffe toys we put in front of you. every day you can do a little more than the day before.
you’ve decided that you need to go to bed sometime between the hours of 7:00 and 9:00. you start your battle cries for bedtime around 6:30 to let us know you are getting sleepy. we keep you up and happy for a little while longer to tucker you out even more until you let us know you really have had enough. then we put you in your sleep sack, move the pillows to the floor, pull back the covers, and plop you in the middle of the bed. i nurse you on my side while papa and i sing to you or talk quietly with each other. unlike last month, which took some time, you’ve usually found a deep sleep within five minutes. i lay with you a little while longer, resting my hand gently on your chest or holding your t-rex arms down so you don’t wake yourself w your falling-asleep flails. and then i creep away, removing otto’s collar so he can rest in bed with you without waking you up, and tiptoe out of the room. you sleep soundly until about 7:30 in the morning.
your smile has become bigger and more genuine. it fills your face! you love to smile as your sleepy head finds clarity in the morning and you beam when i sing you “itsy bitsy spider.” you love music, especially when i dance you around the living room as i introduce you to songs from papa’s record collection. vampire weekend, so far, is your favorite.
weekends and mornings are becoming extra special to me. during the week you and i hang out with max, a six month old. he’s a great baby and looking after him enables me to stay home with you. but it sure isn’t the same as when it was just you and i all the time.
when you were born–and up until recently–you were the spitting image of your father. but now i see some of me in your chubby little face and i’m certainly claiming those tremendous blue eyes. they’re bright and round and curious and alert. they dance they do. i love you. i love how you smell and how your squishy body feels. i love your squawks and coos and smiles just for me. we certainly make quite the pair. i look at you, all the million little details that make up you, and i love each and every single one. you are destined to be a great woman and i look forward to meeting that woman. but i’m holding on tightly now to your little size: how perfectly you fit on my back when i wear you, your head in the crook of my neck. how we are able to nuzzle and i can hold you effortlessly in the air. when you nurse, your small hands holding onto my breast, you tucked into my folded arms. it is just you and i in those moments–something you will understand when you are a mama. please don’t grow up too fast.
we weren’t sure what having a baby would do to the life we knew. it’s turned it upside down, that’s for certain. but we’re also trying to introduce you to the life we had pre-ramona and plan to continue having: good meals, happy hours, first fridays, neighborhood walks, porch time w friends, enjoying beautiful and well-made things and surrounding ourselves w kind, creative, and community-oriented people. we like how you fit into these times w us and we couldn’t imagine life without you.
i love you.
mama
***
marcie: let’s please book a girls weekend to toronto and do some shopping at mjolk.
andrea: i’m trying my best! sometimes i certainly don’t feel that way so thanks for the love. as you know: babywearing makes all the difference in the world 😉
my little bean,
you are not so little anymore, at least compared to the day you were born. i am reminding myself, each and every day, to relish this size of yours; to breathe it in deeply and to always remember what it is like to have your head nestled into the crook of my neck, your body pressed close to my chest. it will not always be like this.
with ease i can slip you into our wrap and wear you around, doing most anything around the house while you bounce along for the ride, most often falling into a deep sleep that cannot be sustained when i try to quietly slip you off and place you to sleep in your swing or on our bed. you will not have it. we were meant to be together. and so i wrap you up again and off we go conjoined at our fronts like a pair of siamese twins. i grumble sometimes about this but catch myself when i remember you will not be this small forever and one day–perhaps when you hit your teenage years and i seem a lot less cool to you than i once did–i will long for the time i can wrap you up and carry you along where i go.
we are two peas in a pod. you prefer my smell, my touch, my breath. i suppose all mothers experience this and, i hope, feel as honored as i do that you have bonded with and chosen me. biology was working in our favor but i humbly understand that it is not always this way; some mamas don’t have it as easy as i do, this connection that you and i share alone.
you smile. oh how you smile. it is usually prompted by a stupid grin on my face (or on papa’s or diri’s) but you return it with such vigor and glee. sometimes, yes, we find out you just needed to poop and poop you do. but, especially first thing in the morning, your smile is real and true and papa and i get a glimpse of the emotive little girl you will soon be. and the coos that, at times, accompany that wide, toothless grin: oy vey, they melt my heart. you are certainly trying to say something to us and so i make sure i listen and make sure i respond with how much i love you too.
you still sleep with us (and will for quite some time). and a nighttime routine is beginning to take place as we realize you are not so little anymore and our days of taking you along to anywhere at any time are soon over. so we all get ready for bed and you lay between us. your eyes get heavy as we sing you lullabies and hymns. i am usually way out of tune but your papa keeps us on track with his deep and soothing voice, easily switching from “jesus loves the little children” to “how great thou art” and back to “silent night.” we always end with the doxology and, by that time, your eyelids have usually grown heavy, your suck on the pacifier has relaxed, and your arms flop bonelessly to the side. papa and i high five each other and snuggle in. we are fast asleep about five seconds after you.
you’ve taken plane rides (five! to be exact) and traveled to great cities (chicago, minneapolis, austin) and each and every time you were a champ. you must certainly have the olson blood in you from your great-grandma marilyn: she was the champion traveler. and this month you got to meet nana, your great-grandma beisman for whom you can thank for your chin. she loves you and has been an advocate in your imagination and early love of reading as she has given you twelve dr. seuss books already! we try to read you at least one book a day bc, as they say, the love of reading is learned in the lap. ain’t that the truth?
ramona bean, you are my dream machine. you are my milk monster. you are certainly more than i imagined. you are you. and each night, as papa and i sing you to sleep with some of our favorite hymns, i pray that we raise you up to be a young woman who knows and loves herself bc she knows and loves the great and beautiful mystery of life.
praise God from whom all blessings flow.
praise Him, all creatures here below.
praise Him, above ye heavenly hosts.
praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
Amen.
i love you,
mama.
see one week, two weeks, three weeks, and one month.
my ramona bean. today you are one month old! you certainly are growing into yourself and we see little glimpses every day of who you are. you’re getting bigger and your eyes are getting wider. you are, for the most part, pretty predictable, and that makes our life a little easier. of course, as every parent has told us, that could change next week.
you are super active in the morning and again in the late evening. during the day you eat and sleep like a champ. you wake up, eat, hang out and play with mama for a little bit, and then get rocked to sleep with a walk in the wrap. then you sleep for two to three hours. then we do it all over again.
at night, after a long feeding, you fall asleep in your swing around 10:00 or 11:00 and wake up three hours later to nurse again. it’s just a snack as you usually fall asleep after 7 to 10 minutes. then i put you in your moses basket by the side of the bed. then you wake up again later. last night it was FOUR HOURS LATER! we couldn’t believe it. but usually it’s two or three hours later. again, you snack and fall asleep. this third feeding is when you usually are a little noisy afterward: just squawking and grunting and general funny old man noises. you tend to fall asleep best on my chest at this juncture. sometimes we put in you in between papa and i. but you’re in bed with us. you wake up again two hours later and at this point mama is really exhausted so we stay in bed and do some side-lying feeding, which typically results in mama and baby falling asleep together again. after that? you wake up and are ready for the world. no more sleeping for mama or papa!
you have really cute little rolls on your arms and legs. and i swear you get a little pudgier and a little more roly poly each day. that’s really good! i’m very thankful for a healthy and big baby. i’m especially thankful that healthy baby is you, ramona.
oh, baby. you are getting big. you eat well. you poop well. you pee even better. some days you fuss a lot. other days you just really want to sleep. and more and more you are digging staying awake and working on those neck muscles (though you still just mostly look like a bobble head). you are my little ramona bean.
there was supposed to be a photo of you sitting up but nona was too busy taking photos of you on her phone that she failed to remember to man her position as propper-upper. next week.
also, get a little bit bigger so you can fit into all the beautiful bloomers kelly, from work, handed down to you. when we discovered you were a girl your mama quickly discovered that means you get to wear all kinds and colors of bloomers with all sorts of ruffles on the tush. she has her priorities straight.
i’m glad you’ve found your voice and your hands. but these things do tend to keep you up a little later (or earlier). papa and i take turns seeing who will be the one that night to finally get you to sleep during your 2-4 hour wide-awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night-time. it’s usually papa. you get near me and all you can think about (or smell or something) are my milk-carrying ladies. and that distracts you, a lot of the time, from falling into snoozes. we’ll get it, you and i.
i love you.
p.s. at your two-week check-up you weighed a whopping 8lbs 12oz! now that’s what we like to see, big eater.
p.p.s. are you already flipping us off (second photo from bottom)?
welcome
