This letter was written several weeks ago, but was just waiting for editing before I could post it. So, think back two + weeks as you read.
September 6, 2007
Dear Daisy,
You are now officially three months old, and your parents no longer resemble the walking dead. While it is still hard to believe that I have a three month old (three months, really?) the benefits of you reaching this age have been enormous. Beyond the basics like only needing one “get up” a night, your third month has brought with it all kinds of new delights.
Like the fact that you actually take pleasure in things now. You have this great bouncy seat that you have loved since you came home, but now instead of just reveling in the joy that is your vibrating backside, you actually smile and laugh and coo and giggle at the bevy of toys displayed in front of you. I can’t wait to see how you react when you realize that you can actually bat at them and make them move! And even beyond with the fancy function that causes a song to play when there is movement. Ah…toys these days.
As instructed by all those great baby books, this month we instituted your bedtime routine that we have affectionately dubbed: the four B’s. They are: bath, book, boob, bed and you seem to have taken to the routine quite well. For the most part Dad is responsible for the bath and the book and because of this I have begun to think that you like him better than me. (Sometimes we’ll set you down and stand on either side and, much like the Sandy episode in Annie, we’ll call out to you to see who you’ll look at first. By far you prefer your father. And I’m okay with that…for now.) It seems about every other night that you put yourself to sleep easily with just a little talking and fist sucking, and on the opposite evenings you cry and cry until one of us pats your tummy until you finally drift to sleep. And once again, your Daddy is the best at this.
We are still working out daytime sleeps. I promise, kiddo, if you just take a couple naps during the day life will be much happier all around. Trust me on this one, will you? I’m your mom, and I know best.
Sometime during this month two things happened: our cranky morning baby started waking up to greet the world with the cheeriest disposition, and our happy afternoon baby turned into the crankiest of cranky monsters. Mornings with you have become my new favorite time and although I still hate dragging my tired bum out of bed in the morning, life is made all that much better by coming into your room and being greeted with the best grin ever. Your smile lights up this whole block. Daddy and I love the days when we have time to bring you back to bed with us, stick you on your back between and laugh and talk together. (One of many “who will you look at moments” occur here.) I hope this time continues to be as special as you get older.
But then something happens when the afternoon rolls around and nothing we can do will make you happy. Not your swing, not your seat, not being held and cuddled. You become this just unhappy kid. And we hurt for you. The massive amounts of drool and the thumb gnawing (not sucking) have made us wonder if by chance you might be teething early. Either way, we wish we could help you out and avoid all the screaming.
The screaming? Seriously, kid, we’re right there next to you doing everything we can to help. Could you maybe lower it a few decibels? Daddy and I would like to keep our hearing. That’s all.
Ultimately, watching you grow and learn is probably the coolest thing ever. Seriously. Ever.
Know that you are a child of God and that you are so very loved,
Mommy