lucky thirteen

Dear Bella,

The months are starting to run by, one into another, the way that days and weeks did at first. Measurements like these so quickly become blips on the scale of life.

When you turned one you got your first top tooth. Now you have four. Your signature toothless smile now carries the look of a toddler. Oh, those teeth. They took a while to get used to (and wreaked havoc on our ec routine). But now the giant gap between your two front teeth is as endearing as ever. Same smile, new look.

It's funny because your baby appeal seems far from wearing off. You have been credited for many aching ovaries, and your unbelievably joyful public persona has likely had a hand in this new baby boom. Everywhere we go people still say (s)he's so cute/adorable/beautiful/handsome (sorry kiddo, your hair's not that long and even when I dress you in pink people still don't get it).

First they comment on your smile and then your eyes. And then usually they turn to me and realize you inherited my eyes. I agree, they are much prettier on you. But still, it makes me wonder what the world would be like if we were so eager to share compliments with one another as adults, without suspicion or motive. I think everyone would be a bit sunnier for it. Babies coax people out of our society's stuffy, independent norms, and I appreciate you giving me the chance to see this side of people.

You're starting to talk and sign, though the meanings aren't always clear. (More? More what? More potty? More food? More Mama? Who knows...) You point and say Gah! when you want something (you haven't mastered telekinesis, but you have your ways), and if you want me to go somewhere with you, you add a shoulder tap into the mix. I see your brain grinding and whirring every minute as you work things out. How do I get there? How do I get Daddy to get that for me? What happens when I drop this? What happens when I have two people to hand things to? Was that my voice making that noise? Let's try it again. You tap dance and swish your legs around to feel the surface of the floor. You watch reactions and have amazing comedic timing (and an uncanny awareness that getting someone to eat your feet is funny).

You've also finally decided on the merits of rolling over. In the past few days you have done more acrobatics rolling and bouncing on the bed than you have your whole life. Which also means you have started sleep crawling, and we have had many long nights of me coaxing you back to lie down with me.

You rarely let us walk you around these days, since that requires dependence on people (God forbid!). Someday you'll figure out that you don't need to crawl any more since your balance is already impeccable. Yoga masters would envy some of the poses you can hold.

None of this even begins to explain just how much you've changed this month. You feed us whatever is currently in your hands and play games with us, from chase to hide-and-seek to tickle time in the pillows. I'm back home full time now, and you want to do whatever I'm doing, whether I'm typing or drawing or watering the garden. And you cuddle, oh how you cuddle. You rest your head down and pause for just a moment so that my heart expands and melts back into the right shape. You fill me up so I can handle the more and more frequent bouts of independence and tantrums. Thank you for knowing what I need, baby. I hope you will always have a moment to fill my heart back up for balance and set me back on my feet.

Love,
mama