Wednesday, 19 September 2012
Happy One Month, Sweet Girl
A month now you've been with us. As always, I wouldn't believe it if the calendar didn't tell me it was true. It seems as though you've just arrived and yet have also somehow been with us forever. You fit so perfectly.
So far, you've made the transition to three easy on your mama. Thank you, darling. You have your fussy moments but usually you're calm, content to be snuggled up next to me as we go about our day. The feeling is mutual, my love; it's so nice to get to kiss your sweet head as I wash the dishes or prepare snacks for your hungry brothers.
You've got your Daddy wrapped around your finger already. You sleep on his chest and then when you wake up, you smile your mouth-wide-open, eyes-lit-up smile at him and he's done for. Anything you want, it's yours. He says you like him more than the other two did but secretly, I think you're just benefiting from being the third child: newborns aren't so frightening and mysterious to him as they were the first couple times around.
Then again, you sure do smile at him a lot. (They say it's still reflex, those smiles, but they sure do seem deliberate. We'll take them either way, darling.)
You're just as free with your smiles when it comes to your brothers, too. Their fascination with you hasn't worn off one bit in the past weeks. They still tell me how happy they are that you're here. It is such a gift to watch them adore you.
The older of your brothers takes his role so seriously, watching over you while I switch the laundry or use the washroom. When you cry, he touches your head and tells you it's going to be okay. He sits in the middle in the car, often holding his brother's hand on one side and your head on the other. More than once I've gone to get you out of the car and discovered that between your sweaty head and his dirty hand, you've ended up with a muddy face in desperate need of a washing. It's a small price to pay for the comfort he gives you, though.
The younger of your brothers - oh, I wish I could adequately describe it. He can't get enough of you, little one. Every time I turn around, there he is, rubbing your head as he tells you how cute you are and how sweet you are and how much he likes you. He talks to you in the sweetest high-pitched voice. He watches you nurse, then he asks to hold you again as soon as you're done. You'll be pleased to know that while he still wonders where your eyes have gone when you're sleeping, he no longer tries to pry them open to see. A vast improvement, I'd say.
And as for me...well, it's like I said. You just fit perfectly. I can't get enough of you. I love all the little things, like the way you always burp twice in a row, hold my breast with both fists as you nurse, and lay silently for a few minutes after every diaper change. I wonder what you'll be like in the future, but mostly I'm just cherishing every moment of today.
With so very much love,