on the occasion of her 1-month "birthday" (written nearly 2 weeks late):
Dear Tenacious E:
We've settled upon a nickname. Okay, not really. Your father still calls you "Ellie Belly" or "Ellie Bean". Both are deliciously cute, don't get me wrong, but I'm sticking with Tenacious E and here's why: tenacity is the trait that brought you to me - and the trait that will make you an awesome and excellent adult. It is the characteristic that I will struggle against throughout your infancy and childhood and I need a consistent reminder that it is beautiful, cute, adorable, and above all else, essential. A sweet nickname is the best way to remind myself of that, I think.
Why do I say it's what brought you here? Well, when four others failed, you hung on. I'll never understand why and I don't care - I don't need an answer, because I have you. When tenacity's the trait that brought you to me, I probably shouldn't spend a moment lamenting it. I should embrace it in all of its forms.
You are a month old now - actually a month and then some because your mother lacks commitment to regular blogging. I should be writing this in your diary, I know, but I'm not. One day I'll print this out, how's that?
What do you do now? Everything that good babies should: You eat, sleep, and cry. You've begun to coo a bit and to smile too. We sleep together nearly every night and you sleep on my chest most days - and when it gets to be too much, when I'm exhausted or frustrated because of the mounting list of things I need to do - I try hard to remind myself of our journey to get here -- and of how short these times are. Your birth was the beginning of a process of growing AWAY from me - a slow process, certainly, but one I've watched in your brother and sister and while they are growing away and into awesome independent people, there is still no time in their lives that they will be closer to me than they were during those 3 a.m. feedings as newborns when they snoozed and snacked and snacked and snoozed. So when you do that - and I'm exhausted and a bit annoyed - I try to remember that this moment is among the closest we will ever have.
Right now you are napping on my chest and I am in heaven. The house is quiet but for the sound of your breath. My list of things to do is huge but right now there is no more important thing for me to do than to take this in and love it for all that it is.
Dear Tenacious E:
We've settled upon a nickname. Okay, not really. Your father still calls you "Ellie Belly" or "Ellie Bean". Both are deliciously cute, don't get me wrong, but I'm sticking with Tenacious E and here's why: tenacity is the trait that brought you to me - and the trait that will make you an awesome and excellent adult. It is the characteristic that I will struggle against throughout your infancy and childhood and I need a consistent reminder that it is beautiful, cute, adorable, and above all else, essential. A sweet nickname is the best way to remind myself of that, I think.
Why do I say it's what brought you here? Well, when four others failed, you hung on. I'll never understand why and I don't care - I don't need an answer, because I have you. When tenacity's the trait that brought you to me, I probably shouldn't spend a moment lamenting it. I should embrace it in all of its forms.
You are a month old now - actually a month and then some because your mother lacks commitment to regular blogging. I should be writing this in your diary, I know, but I'm not. One day I'll print this out, how's that?
What do you do now? Everything that good babies should: You eat, sleep, and cry. You've begun to coo a bit and to smile too. We sleep together nearly every night and you sleep on my chest most days - and when it gets to be too much, when I'm exhausted or frustrated because of the mounting list of things I need to do - I try hard to remind myself of our journey to get here -- and of how short these times are. Your birth was the beginning of a process of growing AWAY from me - a slow process, certainly, but one I've watched in your brother and sister and while they are growing away and into awesome independent people, there is still no time in their lives that they will be closer to me than they were during those 3 a.m. feedings as newborns when they snoozed and snacked and snacked and snoozed. So when you do that - and I'm exhausted and a bit annoyed - I try to remember that this moment is among the closest we will ever have.
Right now you are napping on my chest and I am in heaven. The house is quiet but for the sound of your breath. My list of things to do is huge but right now there is no more important thing for me to do than to take this in and love it for all that it is.
Yay miss Tenacious E! She's growing so beautifully :) And you're powering through it wonderfully, M.
ReplyDeleteRight on.
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