I’ve fallen in love–the drunken stumble, tripping, head-over-heels, topsy-turvy sort of fall–with both my babes somewhere between their third and fourth months on this earth. I fall in love hard–a string of drool brings a goofy smile to my face. A toothless grin gives me butterflies in my stomach. A poopy diaper smells, wait for it, good.
I find myself wanting to talk about each and every itsy bitsy thing about these precious girls. Conversations that cause others to glaze over with boredom have me going, “And did you see the way she chewed on that rattle? So cute!” I’m gushing.
So have I given fair warning? I’m in love with Little One.
This Little One is a heart-warmer. She’s perfectly content to snuggle into a strong pair of arms. She’s thrilled to be held up and out, facing the action and world around her. She’s deliberate when dispensing her smiles. She really, really wants to watch TV.
She sleeps 8 hours at a stretch. Now that’s heart warming!
In the past month, she’s gained two pounds, sprouted up three inches, rolled over (front to back and back to front), tried out a rusty giggle, and developed the salivary glands of a St. Bernard.
I have to say it, isn’t she adorable?!
She chats with me, watching the way my mouth circles around “Hello!” and mimics my sounds, her tongue darting in and out in some rudimentary “L”. She soothes with a soft muslin blanket rubbing her face. She can’t, for the life of her, figure out how to suck her thumb just right. So instead, she gets frustrated and cries angrily or just resorts to chewing on thumb, fist, or fingers.
She’s laid back, and winsome, and persistent, and intense, and utterly yummy. She has the sweetest, tiniest balls of ear wax.
I’m so in love, I even like the crusty spots behind her ears where her spit-up milk likes to collect and dry.
I’m absorbed in her world. And ever so proud of her lifetime accomplishments:
I guess there will come a time, as happens with all great loves, when I realize she actually has flaws, but that seems like a fairly remote possibility right now. And anyway, if she does by chance develop the errant flaw or two, well, I’ll just love them as much as I love all the other perfect parts of her.
Happy Four Months, Little One,
Your love-besotted Mama