Brighton,
You are THREE months old!! And, even though you are MY #1 man and I MAY be a little bit partial to you, you HAVE to know that you are the SWEETEST, CUTEST, MOST ADORABLE bowl of PUDDING in the entire UNIVERSE. I kiss EVERY roll on your little body EVERY day... usually more than 6 times, if I'm being honest. (I am making up for your teenage years when it will no longer be cool for me to hold you down and chew on your legs). As of now... you are pretty OKAY with it, more than okay... you squeal and giggle and LIKE it! But don't you worry, kiddo... once you hit puberty and hair grows on your leg... I'll keep away... promise. BUT until then... you remain my chew toy.
You have the SWEETEST demeanor. I suppose you got ALL the patience I had to offer from my genes (because your sister got NONE and I didn't keep any when I transferred it to you). You politely let me know when you are hungry (usually by making a loud SMACKING noise that is the result of you trying to suck milk from your wrist roll). And if you want to be held you make a noise that SOUNDS like a fussy coo, but is actually your distress call. Pretty much... if I wasn't tied up with fetching chocolate milk every four and a half minutes, and I went and picked you up every time I heard your "pardon me, Mommy... I just wanted to remind you that you do have a second child... and... you haven't fed me in a while... so if you get a minute and can feed me, talk to me, or at least put something on the TV for me to watch OTHER than Diego... I'd really appreciate it..." than I believe you would never cry. I try not to WAIT for you to get upset... but at times its inevitable... mostly because I have to do annoying tasks like laundry and dishes.
You don't care too much for bottles... you want milk straight from the cow. And you are a DANG good eater. Even though you can't breathe right now, because you have a cold, you aren't deterred from getting your Eat On. I do feel terrible for you. You sound like Marge Simpson when you breathe. You've unfortunately been introduced to the snot sucker. You really don't care for it at all. I think you have about a pound of snot in your little head right now. I didn't weigh it last time I sucked it out... but my visual guestimation DEFINITELY says a pound. I couldn't imagine that it would HURT to have your nose blown FOR YOU, so I stuck it in my nose to find out how it felt. I now have empathy for you. It felt like my brain and even eyeballs might get sucked through my nasal cavity. But, none the less, it has to feel better than my fingernail being jabbed up into your skull.
You are such a talkative little fritter! Every time someone gives you a hint of attention you light up like Rudolph's nose and you just Coo! You kind of sound like a little boy instead of a baby sometimes. I think you may have a deep voice. When you fuss, and perhaps its why I have to gather you up in my arms immediately, you whine, "Ma ma ma..." I know you are 3 months and all that jazz, but you don't whine "da da da." I'm just saying. If it comes to a debate later on... you DEFINITELY said Ma Ma first.
You love to cuddle. (Or "I" just love to cuddle and you can't tell me to stop or yell put me down so I ASSUME you love it). You don't like being held sideways like a normal baby... you want to be sitting STRAIGHT up, STANDING straight up, or leaning against my chest STRAIGHT UP. You like to SEE what is going on and are VERY observant.
I never get to hold you at church. Or when I'm anywhere else for that matter. Everyone (who can lift you) snatches you from me and loves on you. You usually repay them with a HUGE grin... and often a shirt full of spit-up. (THAT is when you KNOW you are a sweet baby... when people hold you KNOWING they are going to get puked on). With ALL the sweet and PERFECTNESS you have to have SOMETHING to make you human so you don't float back up to Heaven being mistaken as an Angel. And those two things are spit-up and RANCID gas. When I am nursing you and you TOOT, my whole head turns green. For the longest time I was chewing Charkley out for leaking rotten air out his bum which is ALWAYS attached to my leg. THEN I realized the foul fog was hovering around YOU! I stopped eating cabbage.
You are a FABULOUS sleeper! And I deserve a good sleeper after your SISTER who WILL not sleep through the night. (I've seriously been considering crushing up some Tylenol PM in her chocolate milk). I lay you in your crib and you smile and coo at the mirror until you just can't hold your eyes open any more. Then you crash for the night.
You love baths and I try to give you one at least once a week before church. (Just kidding.. kind of). I try to bathe you babies every night... but I don't get my stress on if we miss one.. or two.. or three nights. You play in the pool enough to make up for your lack of hygiene. AND, since you spit up at least seven times a day, you get at LEAST seven baby wipe baths... and that can totally count for bathing. Plus if we go into public I put lotion on your head to cover up the stench of spit-up so people at least THINK you are clean. (Unless they give your neck a good wiff... those rolls are pretty brutal tattle tails).
Anyway- I just sit around gawking at you and sucking on your cheeks and thanking God that He let me have you! I feel so blessed and so LUCKY. I don't take you for granted... just ask your Daddy. I probably say to him at least four times a day, "Starling... just LOOK at him... Can you BELIEVE HE is OUR baby? How did we get so blessed?", "Starling... I am SO in love with this BABY! I don't think I could have created a better baby if I'd been using gene selection!", "Starling...do you REALLY think we should have a third baby? After Brooklyn and Brighton... don't you think we're REALLY trying our luck? NO WAY can we get THREE angels... there's going to be a stinker coming up for SURE,", "Omgeez, Starling. I just don't ever want to put him DOWN! I just can't stop holding him!" (Which is why you weigh 17 pounds... so I HAVE to put you down)! Whatever or WHOEVER you THINK you love... times that by about 100,000 million cuzillion. Now you are about an eighth of the way to comprehending how much I love YOU!!\
Love,
Yo' Mama!
No comments:
Post a Comment