24th
9-month Open Letter
Liebe Hannah,
It is now happening so fast! We had 6 months during which we became pretty darn good at parenting this small, immobile, relatively uncomplicated little girl. Then you started rolling over and sitting up and life as we knew it was over, and it seems we have no chance to get used to the next phase because it so quickly leads to the next. There is no way to slow it down or preserve all the memories. I have a picture of you on my cell phone from when you were about 2 months old. That you looked like that, so small, no longer seems possible. You are now so rough and tough and strong, blasting through life … just like your Mama.
You are eating more and more solid food, but it is still what I define as “semi-solid.” You still choke on the little cereal “puffs” we try out on you every 3 – 4 days. I let you gnaw on some basil you inevitably pick for yourself “helping me” water out in the garden. I then get to fish out of your mouth all the green, wilted pieces you don’t want to swallow. You seem to enjoy the pungent taste. Picking that basil is the result of the dexterity you have developed with your tiny, grasping hands. Those hands love to explore my face, pinching and grabbing as you nurse. You flap your arms and hands wildly to demonstrate your purest joy: when you want more yummy food, when you see Papa for the first time after a few hours, when you take notice of the ever-cautious Marvin. You still seemed surprised by the joyful laughter it evokes from Papa and I. We laugh even harder when we watch you have your oh-so-obvious bowel movements, almost always sitting in your chair attached to the dining table, and almost always right when we wish to commence eating. Your eyes bug out, your tongue sticks out, your lips get big and your face turns purple as you groan loudly. The push subsides and you catch your breath as if nothing happened. This is sometimes followed by a few more entertaining pushes or the scent that moves the laughing parents to action. We must also laugh because we imagine we grown-ups ALL look that way, in the privacy of the bathroom.
Your laughter is like music. Your laugh attacks come sometimes rather inexplicably but are always contagious, causing more laughter and causing those around you to want to discover the source of your deepest, purest giggle. You are extremely ticklish, and rubbing under your arms or squeezing your upper thighs in a “horse bite” always gets a squeal. If you are not laughing, then you are often groaning or making “sheep like” noises. You gab a lot, many varied syllables. Papa and I get very excited by the “MaMaMaMaMaMaMaMaMaMaMaMa” or “PaPaPaPa / BaBaBaBaBaBaBaBa” but we know you don’t have official verbal labels for us yet. We assume you are extraordinarily confused by the German and English spoken to you constantly and we remain patient about your speaking as you sort and register your two native tongues.
You still have no teeth, but like most of these milestones, we only hope that you reach them as prom approaches. We were so certain you would get some teeth soon but it has been over 4 months now that we have expected a pearly white and not even seen a bump nor even redness, just your constant gnawing on everything you get your hands on or your jaws near (furniture not excluded), and the copious amounts of slobber, like a faucet leaking long, sticky drips from your toothless mouth.
You have also begun to multi-task, chewing on the edge of the sofa even as you pull yourself up to stand beside it. Pulling yourself up began just this last week, and we know that walking is not far behind.
Your power and determination never cease to amaze us. I hope this is a trait you can carry into your later life to help you through the tougher times. And perhaps to make you an Olympian in … 2028? I guess if you went into gymnastics that would be 2020 (2016?). But then, I don’t think you have parents who have those ambitions for you, unless you show us it is your dream. Although we avoid having the TV on when you are awake, we have watched some of the Beijing Olympics with you. We wonder if Michael Phelps will still hold all his records when you are old enough to notice.
August 1st Mama began a new regular, full-time job and you began daycare with a wonderful woman named Jill. I was worried about this transition in our lives together, but I was reassured toward the end of summer by your happy squeals whenever we would see other children about town. You knew that these smaller versions of the humans around you had much more to offer. You started daycare Monday, August 4th with Jill in her home with approx. 6 other kids. The first day was rough. You refused the bottle and were unsure of the whole set-up. In addition to that, each time you got upset, there were 6 well-meaning 2 – 4 year-olds right in your face offering a solution: soothing words or a favorite toy. Unfortunately on Day 1, this had the opposite effect. “Get out of my face” you seemed to holler back. How much Papa and I wish we could have been a fly on the wall. We still want that –to see you interact with these other kids. Day 2 was perfect and we have had no problems since. In fact, you have learned to nap better since your start at Jill’s. You began waking up more in the night and especially early mornings, and it occurred to me that you need more of me at night since you have less of me during the day, and this makes it worth it. Usually I nurse you for about 5 – 10 minutes and we snuggle together another 5 – 10 minutes and both of us are better off for it. Danke, Hannah-Maus.
Mama has had the occasional guilt-flash about being away from you so much during the week. During Week 2 of work, Papa started bringing you later so that I could get to work and pick you up earlier. We ride our bikes, leaving your bike trailer at Jill’s. It works well, saves gas, leaves a smaller carbon-footprint on your future and makes all the other kids jealous of your cool ride as their own parents pick them up and drop them off in SUVs that they let idle in Jill’s driveway.
This month I began to realize how much bigger your world is becoming. It all began as just you and me. Heck, it began as just you. I was the one who kept feeding you and insisting on those awful baths. Then you began to know me and to finally like those baths. Then you recognized and fell in love with Papa. Now you have realized that there is so much MORE to see and hear and discover and chew on. You want us always close as you explore, but you don’t snuggle with us quite the same because you are too busy discovering this amazing world in which you have suddenly found yourself. I am so blessed that it all began with me and am I honored that I get to be your guide for this first great chunk of discovery.
Ich habe dich lieb, Maus.
Love,
Mama
