Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Dear Simon

Dear Simon,

When you were one day old, I pushed you down the hallway in your plastic wheel-y bassinet thing to the nursery at Martha Jeff Hospital. Just like all the other babies, you needed to have a few things checked on to make sure you were doing okay in the real world. While we waited, I rocked you in a dimly-lit, empty room. I looked at you and thought, You aren't quite as cute as I imagined. No offense, love, I still thought the whole darn world of you, but you were swollen, bruised and squished from delivery, and you were struggling a bit. I love you.

Now I can hardly take my eyes off of you. You're adorable. You have the biggest blue eyes and lashes for miles. It's the first thing people comment on in public. That, or your fuzzy red hair.

You sleep one of two ways: on your belly with your arms tucked underneath, or on your back with your arms and legs spread out like you fell asleep making snow angels. It goes without saying that I adore both. It takes everything in me not to pick you up every night and kiss you on your little button mouth. Sometimes, I can't help myself. I pick you up and hold you. You are confused and squinty and you suck your thumb to soothe you while you figure out what on earth just happened to you. Then you cuddle me and I nearly die of the happiness. Never grow up, OK?

You have your moments, too. Don't we all? Your tantrums are highly dramatic and loud. You often crawl up to a bookshelf that you know you aren't allowed to play with, look at me, say, "No" then proceed to pull every book off the shelf. When I don't allow you to continue, you throw yourself on the floor and flail about like I've told you that you can never eat hot dogs again.

You say "Dada" but you don't say "Mama". In fact you say many things, but you don't say, "Mama". I think that you will probably recite the Pledge of Allegiance before you say "Mama" but I guess that's alright. We do love our country, after all.

I love you, Bubbins. You bring me so much joy.



No comments:

Post a Comment