Four Months Old

Do you have any idea how long it’s taken me to write this? Not because I am stuck for ideas or don’t know how to organize my thoughts; if ONLY that were the problem. Instead, every time I sit down to write you wake up and demand immediate attention. Do you not want an update on your life at four months? Because I can accommodate that request, little girl; JUST YOU TRY IT!

Now you sleep. HAH! Obviously threats work very well with you. Marking THAT down in my little book.

What’s up with you, my dear little Anya? You were so easy when you slept all the time. Now you are becoming so much more aware and so interactive. It’s like I finally put the batteries in the nifty new toy. You have been my clingy monkey this month, not wanting to be put down and not always content to simply sit in my lap while I type or read or do whatever random thing I do while sitting. You want to be up, walking, looking at the world and catching everyone’s eye. You’ll stare at someone intently, your brow slightly furrowed and wait until they look at you. Once you have their eyes your face will erupt into a brilliant smile, your body wiggling in happiness that you made them look at you.

You’ve also started really getting into your hands. You stuff them into your mouth, move objects around violently, lay your palm against my chest and them quickly pull your fingers into a fist, scratching me in the process. Fine motor control is not yet your forte. “Hey, look at that toy!” you seem to say, “I can just delicately pick that up and deftly move it towards my… HEY, WHO HIT ME!” It’s funny. Well, it’s funny until that little lip comes out and you whimper in this sweet little high-pitched noise that makes my mommy bits go all kooky. Daddy doesn’t understand how physical it is, this being a mom stuff. He doesn’t get that when you cry it is physically painful for me. Nature, she is a bitch in this way.

The last week or two has been a bit blurry for me. You have a cold and your poor little nose is all snuffly. You’ll be nursing along, gulping quickly to avoid certain death and will pop off dramatically, gasping for air before diving in for more of that good stuff. Who needs a life in the theatre? I’ve got drama, right there at my breast. Sadly, this snuffly nose makes it a challenge to sleep at night and, when coupled with what I think is teething, you are wild in bed. Some day that will be a complement, but right now it’s something that makes me curse in the middle of the night. When I should be sleeping. Quietly. Without any profanity spewing from my perfect lips. I woke your Dad at 6:30 the other morning, handing him your wiggly little form and said, “GET OUT.” Listen carefully, because this is what you are looking for in a mate when you are older, much more stupid and fall so deeply in love with someone you want to see their eyes looking out at you from a tiny perfect face sporting your nose and a deeply brilliant mix of both of your skin tones: your daddy took you in his arms, got the hell out of the bedroom and let me sleep, shower and dress in utter and complete peace and quiet. This, my dear little person, is the actions of a very good person.

Whatever you may think by the time you read this, your dad is an amazing man. So much can change over the years, but that is one thing that I need you to know I believe right now. You’ll find over the years that I’m just a wee bit damaged by what happened with my parents. There is something so fragile about the love between partners and while I cannot ever imagine not being in love with your dad, I know that at the time I was born, my mom could never image not being in love with my dad. And the betrayal of falling out of love is so deep that it can leave a person angry, depressed, hurting in a way I hope you never have to know. It is my deepest wish that you will read this while your dad and I smooch and giggle in the background. But if not… if we have hurt each other and both of you girls in the process, just know this one thing: you were created by parents who were deeply in love with each other. Period. And if that doesn’t fill your reserves in the hard times, I just don’t know what will.

I love you. THAT will never change.

Mama

Snuggled Thinking hard

Bubble lips Anya  girl