Monday, November 28, 2011

Crazy in love


We are crazy in love. With our baby that is (well, with each other too but this isn’t that post).

Thumper turned six months today, and already we’re dreading how the days just seem to collide into each other when all we want is for them to slow down so we can savor her cherubic face, her dimpled hands (and feet and butt and cheeks) and those thigh rolls that I can’t stop talking about. At last count, there were six rolls total.

We steal every moment we can to playfully gnaw on her deliciously chewable cheeks. It thrills me to snuggle up next to her when I go to bed at night and occasionally wake up to her sucking on my nose (babies aren’t great with aim, apparently). We are so enamored with this girl.


She is a good baby. A chubby baby. A quiet baby. A pleasant baby. The kind of baby who makes me wish for another (except it’s not in our plan), and so it is with this sad longing that I inhale every inch of her every time I look at her.

Even when she’s not sleeping when she should. Or when she’s fussing when a crowd gathers because she’s only used to the familiar faces of our family and anxious with others. As “festively plump” as she is, she also refuses to eat solids.


I thought, as a second-time mom, I would avoid the pitfalls of a noob, like nursing or rocking her to sleep, except I didn’t, which means Thumper depends on one or the other at nap and bedtimes.  And when she stirs at night, she cries out for us so we’d have to drop whatever it is we’re doing (like this blog post, which I had to abandon mid-sentence) and tend to her nocturnal demands.

But none of these matter. As nerve-wracking, exhausting or trying as her quirks can sometimes be, they pale in comparison to how easy she is otherwise. Besides, if I wished these moments away, even if they’re less than stellar, I could never get them back again.

This is my last shot as a parent to an infant so I choose to be blind to the inconveniences. Instead, I focus on the joys like her infectious smile, her newly bathed lavender-scented skin that puts me in a trance as I sing her to sleep, and her easygoing nature that makes her a prime target for her older sister’s amusement.


I suppose everything we do with Thumper now doesn’t seem much different from the pattern we had inadvertently established with Little Miss when she was an infant even though we vowed we’d do it differently. But we all have these grandiose ideas for ourselves before our babies are born don’t we?

Then they show up and armed with only dimples, some downy hair and a surprisingly strong personality that seems disproportionate to their size, they dictate our lives. Thumper had us wrapped around her stubby pinky from the moment we heard her wail. So tiny yet so much bigger than us in so many ways.

Her cries scramble our frequencies, and her needs engulf our own. If there’s anything that Little Miss taught us, it’s that from the moment a new baby enters our lives, we lose control over the trajectory of our course. Someday, her ambition will drive ours. 

As second-time parents, we know better than to fight the inevitable. We have learned that the best thing to do is to brace ourselves. And enjoy the ride.


Happy half birthday sweet baby!