so it begins again

Dear Lillia,

As I type this, you have a cold (yet I know better than to assume this will be posted any time soon). You're strapped to me as we bounce away on our big white ball. (see? what did I say about punctual posting! that ball bit the dust tonight. so sad.) It has taken you the whole day to learn to breathe through your mouth, and we are both the happier for it.

Three months! And you've turned into such a cute little chub. Me thinks you are playing catch up for those first few months of disinterest. You crave face time now, and when you get it, no one can wipe the smile from your face. To you, Bella is the best invention ever. You could watch her all day and it would never get old.

You giggle on occasion, which I love to hear, but I can't resist your silent squeals that send you flying backward when a smile just isn't enough. And just between you and me, it's fun having a mama's girl. You save certain smiles just for me and they're even worth your continued resistance to the dreaded bottle.

You're so good at sitting up that sometimes I forget that you are not actually old enough to sit on your own yet. (yeah, sorry about that. you got over it, though!) You're definitely a mover. When left on your back, you squirm and kick your foot so much that you spin in slow motion circles. Diapering you is like diapering a pooping helicopter. You've rolled from belly to back a few times, and you're half an inch from rolling from back to belly.

It's fun to watch you on the floor because I can see that you want to move, and I can actually see you try. You don't give up, and I love that. When you're on your back, you go into attack mode and chase your hand around with your mouth. In fact, you are always chasing that hand. When you are sitting down we always have to watch out, since you crunch up into a ball and fall forward with the effort of gnawing at your fist.

I'm afraid that this week you quit your newborn cry. You worked yourself into a towering fury and none of those quavering notes came out, just a long, angry wail. However, that is not to say you haven't found a new form of vocal insanity. You whine in a high pitch like a dolphin when you are very very tired, and let's just say it makes Daddy somewhat crazy. Bella's the one who has my number. Guess it's about time someone started pushing Daddy's buttons. Welcome to the family, my little Lia.

Love,
mama

ps. autumn is my favorite season - just you wait, it's something special!

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The sweetest thing

I crawl into my bed at night, expecting to be greeted by a snuggly little cue ball baby. Instead, you pull away, squeak and stretch from being disturbed and tickle my nose with that fuzzy head.

It has taken me these two months to get used to you - to realize that you are not my darling little Bella returned to her babyhood. It hurts me to wish I had her back to the size you are, hurts to realize that she'll never be quite that close to me again, hurts to have not yet found that level of connection with you.

We're learning to live with each other. You let me wear you now, and you let me cuddle a bit at night. And I'm learning to enjoy the space, learning to run with the moments when you choose to connect. I'm learning to let you be as different as you are.

And the best part? You smell of the sweetest ambrosia. It is the delicious smell of beeswax and honey. This is something new to me, and I can't get enough. And it's mine all day long, and all night while you tickle my nose.

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she's a trooper!

Ah, picking blackberries in the sunset. What else is new? That's September in the PNW for you.
Everyone does it, see?

I didn't know it could get so entertaining, though. Bella was running and skipping and frolicked head long into a ditch full of blackberries. I kid you not. Call me a bad mom, but I'm laughing out loud just thinking about it.

Head first. Like, head on the ground, feet in the air kicking between muffled cries. Oh yes, it was terrible! My heart stopped as I tried to figure out how badly she was hurt and how to get her out of the thorns in one piece. In the end, I just had to grab hold of her legs and yank. I don't even know how she did it. Tripped on a root, I think. A professional diver could not have gone so swiftly into the briers.

She cried for maybe a minute. But she looks like she lost a boxing match with a cat. She's a trooper, that one.

(click on the photo if you want a story about how she now looks like she gets beaten regularly)

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