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Dear Quinny, You’re one.

October 22, 2012

Dear Quinny,

I’m a little obsessed with you.  I just can’t get enough of you.  It might be a little awkward for me to say things like this seeing as how I have this other kid too (ahem, your brother).  I try not to compare, but who are we kidding?  You are the baby that made me believe in babies again.  You are the baby that made me consent that all those books and parenting articles weren’t lying to me.  You are the baby that made me finally believe my friends when they would tell me how their baby sleeps through the night.  And takes naps on cue.  And (usually) only cries when they need something.  And the crying stops when they figure it out.  And smiles and laughs in response.  And poops roses and skittles.  You are THAT baby.

Who knew?!

My pregnancy with you was such a whirlwind I was sure you’d absorb all my anxiety and come out a hot mess.  You were born in a time of transition: me with a new job, us in a transition house.  It was busy times.  Apparently, the stress of those days is reflected in the pea-sized yellow stain on your left front tooth.  Dr. Vaughan says it might have been caused by a mother’s stress or trauma during pregnancy.  It could have very well been stress.  Or it could’ve been one of the daily traumas your brother caused.  However, you came into the world calm and alert, with your big, brown eyes overtaking your face.  Not much has changed, but you’ve added a generous helping of smiles to your repertoire.   When you first started smiling (the real smiles, not the gassy smirks), I noticed that it came through in your eyes.  Like your dad, you smile with your eyes first and it melts me every time.

  

Uncle Gary says that the way you look at people is like you’re stealing their soul.  I just think you’re studying.  You’re absorbing.  You’re taking in the world.  And then you respond.  Faced with people you don’t know well,  you often cling to me and bury your face into my shirt, all the while sneaking peaks at the person.  When you’re a little more comfortable, you smile at them with your eyes.  And after you’ve warmed up, you give them high-fives, bites of your food, or offer them your toys.  I like that you’re not so easy to win over, but you’re not a recluse either.

You’re easy-going, but you’re not a pushover.  You make it very clear what you like and what you don’t like.  For instance, that time I took your pacifier out to wipe your nose?  When I gave it back you spiked the pacifier in my face and bared your fangs at me.  Or, the time I sat you in front of a piano for the first time – you shook your booty like a pro, snorting because you were laughing so hard.  Or, the time I wanted to put cream on your diaper rash – you arched your back and flopped like a fish out of water, screeching like banshee.

You’ve learned to be patient with your brother – at least for as long as you can hold your breath.  He often wants to smother you with hugs and you wind up getting WWE pinned under him.  I usually stand back to let you both work it out.  But don’t worry, I’ll always step in when your face starts turning purple.  I promise to also step in when he puts his foot in your face and then you wind up licking his shoe because you don’t know any better.

      

In many ways I want to slow down time so I can enjoy the sweet, pure, innocent moments of your baby-hood just a little longer.  Soon enough, you’ll be walking and talking.  Soon enough, you’ll be riding bikes and scraping your knee.  Soon, you’ll get more excited about playing with your friends than snuggling with me.  You’ll exert your will and independence.  You’ll read and write.  You’ll sneak out of the house and lie about the tattoo you got on your hip.  You’ll get in trouble at school for beating up that kid who bullied that other kid.  You’ll choose to go to college out of state.  Dear God, stop the madness.

For now, you’re THAT baby.  The one that makes me love being a mom.  The one that rewards me with smiles and snuggles.  The one that poops roses and skittles.

Happy one, Quinners.  You’re the best.

Love,

Mom

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From → La Q

3 Comments
  1. Veronica permalink

    Aww Judy. So sweet. Love her! V

  2. Joy permalink

    Beautiful!

  3. alpa patel permalink

    your dabbling is a gift.truly enjoyed your blog.
    alpa

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