"You were really doing a super job, Mom, but you were so tired. I decided to just fast forward so you and Dad could get some rest."
"Thanks, kiddo. I'm glad I raised you to be thoughtful and a genius."
These three months have been crazy, educational, enlightening, exhausting and beautiful. It's rewarding to be the one person who, with a special swivel of the hips when sauntering a precise speed down the hallway, can make a frightened, tired, or angry little person quit yelling for a minute and take a breath. On the other side of the coin, there is nothing more frustrating than the first time your tried-and-true method doesn't work. In the middle of the night. When the baby has gas. Next is the moment you remember you ate broccoli with dinner, and the guilt of something so trivial pierces your heart like an ice pick.
I feel like we brought our teeny little baby home from the hospital last week, terrified we'd do an awful job. It's as if her first doctor's appointment, where I was sure they'd tell me she wasn't growing enough or pooping enough, was a few days ago. Like those first shots were yesterday.
Rumor has it time will pass this way for the rest of my life. "The years have seemed short, but the days were long." I love the long days-- the afternoons that stretch on forever.
Bathtime isn't as terrifying anymore because she seems a little hardier without that stupid flimsy baby neck. Her baby acne (don't worry, honey, nobody you know will remember I said anything) and cradle cap are finally gone, and the diaper rash I thought was going to kill everyone in my house--yes, even Sheila-- has been a memory for weeks. We get increasingly more comfortable with one another every day, and it's starting to seem she has less of an instinct and more of a desire to cuddle. And she discovers a thousand new things every day.
Last night, when Anthony came home from work, he found us in the nursery during a diaper change. Without thinking, he put his ice-cold hand on The Girl's naked belly. She gasped, looked at her tummy and a huge smile overtook her face, eyes wide with wonder. Daddy is full of silly tricks, Scout.
This morning, I was doing squats beside the bed while she was waking up. She'd watch as I dipped below her line of sight, furrowing her brow and pursing her lips. She greeted me with a wiggle and a grin every time I returned to view. Mama will always come back, Scuttlebug.
The Girl loves the ABC's and You Are My Sunshine, and falls asleep best to Dream a Little Dream of Me, a song my mother sang to me when I was a baby. Her favorite animal in Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? is the green frog. Her favorite toy is a crinkly, yellow giraffe a friend brought over as a gift. I can't wait to see what her favorites are next week!
It's still scary to wake up alone in her bassinet, but much easier to fall asleep there now. She's clearly a morning person, starting each day with a long stretch and a squirmy dance. She opens those little blue eyes and smiles to greet her sleepy Mama with the new day streaming in through the blinds beside our bed.
The sun only rises because my daughter welcomes it with such joy.
It's been lovely (there is really no other word) to watch a tenderness develop in my ARMY STRONG husband. He is a caring father, even though he has unmatched skill when it comes to sleeping through a rough night. You can see his pride and hope for our child in his eyes each time he sees her. It melts me.
Our lives began when hers did.
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