mercurial scribe

Dear Miriam,

My love, let me start with you are an adorable handful. I need you to understand this because that is the very reason I didn’t get to your first month’s letter. I was too busy feeding, burping and changing you while trying very desperately to get some sleep. It’s not the most desperate I’ve ever been for sleep, but dang it was close.

You, precious, are your father’s mini-me, the spitting-image of him as a little kid. (I’ve never understood why it’s called “spitting-image”; I mean, I don’t see you and spit out of disbelief or something!) However, you have my personality. You hiccup just like me. You refuse to go to sleep until you drop for fear of missing something interesting like I did as a kid. You fuss whenever you get bored until you find or are given some kind of new stimulation. I’m so going to have my hands full when you’re older!

Being your Mommy has been a strange, frightening and wonderful experience. You were born in an era where our culture does everything it can to frighten parents out of their wits for their children’s safety to sell products. Putting your baby on her tummy to sleep cause SIDS so buy these blocks so she won’t roll over in her sleep and kill herself! Do not use car seats older than 5 years old, they can be deadly! (And without that handy 5-point harness all the new ones have. Yes, a 5-point harness, like you were driving NASCAR.) I swear, if they could just inject a new parent with more adrenaline as they enter their neighborhood Babies-R-Us to buy more stuff, they would.

It’s also been wonderful. You love to try to chew on my cheeks, which Grammy insists is your way of giving kisses back. I personally just think you like the feeling of chubby cheeks to gum, but I secretly hope you are returning all those kisses I give you. You are so sweet and love to cuddle though you have a penchant for grabbing collars and Daddy’s chest hair when you do which makes me laugh. You even coo when you’re talked to and now you’ve started to make these little squeals back - we’re having incomprehensible conversations! It’s fun.

And being home with you every day is a joy, an exhausting joy but an absolute one. To see you explore the world for the first time reminds me how precious and lovely every little minute is. But it’s exhausting because you actually fuss when you’re getting bored as if you’re telling me “More stimulation, Mommy! I need more!”

This week has been a particularly tough one. You are going through a growth spurt which means 1) you are eating and eating and eating, 2) you are sleeping A LOT, 3) you only sleep through the night every other night because you wake up and want to play after sleeping so much. And if we try to keep you up during the day? Oh goodness! You scream or simply won’t wake up, much like both Mommy and Daddy. We’re not a family who skimps on sleep.

One of the fun little things we have is all the songs I sing to you. When I change you, I sing “Smelly Cat” from Friends and with a slight alteration:

Smelly girl, smelly girl
What are they feeding you?
Smelly girl, smelly girl
It’s not your fault!

This is the only thing that keeps you calm when you’re changed; you’re just like your father in that respect. You like to maintain homeostasis as much as possible and changes - clothes, diapers, going into the car seat or out of it - are objectionable actions to you. Once the change has occurred though, you’re good until the next move comes. This makes me laugh every time and all I can do is look knowingly at your father as he objects with “Shut up!”

Another great fondness you have is of the colors red and blue, which means I’m raising a patriotic little American. Or Frenchman. Whatever. Daddy insists this makes you a Rangers and Red Wings fan since you watched them with particular interest whenever he watched those hockey games.

(Sidenote: the year you were born, the Red Wings and the Penguins were in the Stanley Cup Finals. This is important information according to your father.)

You also like the vacuum, hate raspberries given to your tummy and flash photography, and prefer to fall asleep in someone’s arms before you are put down to sleep. This is adorable but a habit we’re going to have to break eventually. Like in a few months…

The other saga of your life has been formula. Apparently your little body does not appreciate the basic good old Similac. No, you inherited my bad sinuses and need the hypoallergenic milk-based stuff because otherwise you’re so congested in your sinuses you can barely breathe without snoring. Did I mention this stuff costs twice as much as the regular stuff? I guess you also inherited my taste for the expensive stuff - ribeye for a 12-year-old anyone? - and for this I need to apologize to my parents. It’s still a guessing game as to if this hypoallergenic stuff is actually working but you gulp it down greedily despite it smelling so disgusting. And you are growing well, so apparently you are doing just fine.

You have changed my life so much in only two months. I feel like I’m stronger because of you; more patient, more aware, more tapped into my willingness to go the extra mile. You’ve given me and your father so much joy in such a short time that I can only imagine how much you’ll give us as you continue to grow up. You are so loved - by me, Daddy, Grammy, your Nana-dog Zoe, your Oma and Grandpa, your Grandma Debbie and Grandpa Gary. None of us can hardly wait to see what you’ll dub them. (Pop-pop? Papa? Gramma? Ooie?) Just try to keep it clean, k?

Love always and bigger than the sky,
Mommy