You’re month old today, little one. Even though you have yet to speak, we have learned so much about you in the last thirty days, and a great deal about ourselves as well.
The first thing we learned was that you look like your daddy. From the moment you emerged onto the scene and was placed into my arms, screaming your lungs out (telling us your story, in the words of one nurse), everyone has said that you look very much like me. I don’t see the resemblance as much as the rest of the world, and I’m not sure how long it might last, but when you furrow your eyebrows and offer up a stern look, I can see what people are talking about.
Right from the start, you have been a great eater and sleeper, putting many other babies to shame. Granted, Mommy and Daddy have utilized every strategy possible in order to keep you asleep as long as possible (save the Benadryl that your grandparents used to give Mommy when she was a child), but you are also an easy-going baby who rarely cries when put into your cradle. And whether it’s the bottle or the breast, you have been eating well from day one.
You make the cutest faces that Mommy and I have ever seen. The way you purse your lips into an O and coo for us is priceless, and the soft, rhythmic sighs to which I often fall asleep as Mommy is feeding you in bed will be sorely missed someday. Mommy and I can spend hours just staring at you, waiting for the next look of amusement or surprise or even anger to emerge on your face. Every day you show us something new, and our hearts burst with love each time.
You love your pacifier but must be convinced of this each time we place it in your mouth. At least ten seconds of coaxing is required before you begin sucking, but then you’re as happy as a clam.
You love to be rocked, little one. Whether Mommy is rocking you in her arms after a late night feeding or I am rocking you while inside your bassinet or bouncy seat, a strong, rhythmic rock will put you to sleep almost every time. And when you begin to stir early in the morning, switching on the self-rocking cradle will often buy Mommy and me at least another thirty minutes of sleep.
You don’t complain too much about baths but cannot stand it when you pee on yourself. Nothing upsets you more than peeing all over your changing table before we can get a fresh diaper on you.
Mommy and I are not huge fans of this, either.
You love to use your hands to grab onto things and pull. For Mommy, this means that her necklaces are always in jeopardy when you are in her arms. For me, it’s often my lips, my nose and my chest hair.
Nothing makes you happier than sleeping with your mommy in the glider. Nothing makes Daddy happier than watching the two of you asleep in that chair, your little arms clinging to your mother’s chest.
You have found and sucked on your thumb twice so far. You were extremely pleased both times, but both instances were short lived. You are simply not coordinated enough at this point.
These past couple weeks, you’ve become much more alert and aware of your surroundings. You’re more likely to maintain eye contact with Mommy and me, and when we move around a room, we can see your eyes following our movement. You also like being able to see us whenever possible, so rocking you in your bassinet now involves me looking in at you at all times, which frankly has been hampering my writing, little one. Your most alert time of the day is after your first early morning feeding, but you also are very alert in the middle of the night, after Mommy has swaddled you for bed. Mommy calls this your party time. You’re like a little jelly bean, an inch worm with eyes big and wide.
Your fussiest time of the day is typically between 8-11PM. You and I are often together during these difficult stretches while Mommy naps. I have developed many strategies to combat your refusal to sleep and have reached the point where you’re relatively well behaved at this time. There was one night, however, when you cried for almost two hours before I finally handed you off to Mommy, when I thought I might lose my mind.
Mommy and I have also learned a lot about ourselves in this past month.
For Mommy, she has learned that giving birth is hard. In addition to the recovery involved with a cesarean section, four hours of pushing and breast feeding, she has developed bone spurs on both feet that make walking very painful. But just tonight, she told me that she always remembers something I told her early on:
No matter what kind of pain you may be in, it all goes away when Clara is in your arms.
Mommy says I was right, and this extends to the middle-of-the-night feedings as well. As tired was she may be, she’s always excited to see you, even if it’s 3:00 AM.
Mommy has also become aware of time like never before. Though she’s looking forward to knowing the person who you will become, she is also keenly aware of how much you change each day and how brief this time in your life will be. She’s desperately trying to cherish every minute, knowing full well that you’ll be crawling and talking and off to college before we know it.
For me, parenting has been easier than I could have ever imagined. Before you were born, I had never held a baby, but almost instantly, I found myself able to walk around the house, cooking food, folding clothes, and doing other chores with you perched in my arm. It’s like I’d been holding you my entire life, and I am dreading the day when you will be too big for me to carry anymore.
I’ve also discovered how difficult it is to leave for work every day. Though I love my job immensely and cannot imagine giving up my teaching position, I also know in my heart that I could be perfectly happy staying at home every day, taking care of you. It makes the process of leaving you each morning my least favorite time of the day. My heart breaks a little each time I set foot out of the house, knowing that you will grow and change a little more while I am gone. I’m still surprised at how much I wish I could be home with you.
It’s also been interesting to watch the differences between Mommy and me in terms of parenting. I think that we balance one another fairly well. I am better able to tolerate your fussy behavior and occasional bouts of crying, but I’m also more likely to drop apple pie into your ear, macaroni and cheese down your shirt and ignore an inflamed rash on your cheek. Mommy is more likely to notice every little bump on you and ensure that you are bathed regularly, but she is also more prone to nervousness and concern over small and insignificant issues.
See? Balance.
Our parenting style can be summed up best like this:
You’re more likely to be cold with Daddy and overheated with Mommy. Daddy assumes that if you’re cold, you’ll cry. Mommy plays it safe because she never wants you to cry.
It’s hard to believe that a whole month has gone by, little one. Truthfully, you have brought us nothing but joy, and I think I speak for Mommy when I say that there is more happiness in our lives now than ever before.
Don’t grow up too fast, little one. We love you just the way you are.
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