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.
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
Tagged with: dear ramona