It’s taken me all day to write this, baby girl, because frankly you’ve been a bit of a beast. But oh, the ways you make up for it.
Today you are 4 months. Only for 15 more minutes, then you will start 4 months and 1 day. I sit in bed, Daddy snoring next to me so loud I’ve had to wake him up several times, and I watch you finally sleep. You are worn out from your day; from teething, from your shots, from a trip to the supermarket, in and out of the car. You refused to nap. You threw fit after fit. We bought you this all natural teether stuff for your gums, baby Tylenol, and more Mylicon. It didn’t work.
But now you are sleeping, and I have a chance to write this to you, in hopes that one day when you are old enough, you will be able to look back at my blog and see what I tried to do in hopes of spending more time with you at home. I don’t know if it will work but Momma tried her very best with the year she was given.
Bella, I love you. I adore the way you lay on the bed in the morning and yell at the fan in delight. I love the way your face lights up when you see me after a nap, how you burst into smiles when you wake up after sleeping for all of 15 minutes. I love how you see your Daddy from across the room and grin with your head bobbing – and he calls your name to you and sweeps you into his arms as you smile.
You are starting to grab and hold onto things – just in time for gnawing on everything in sight. You can almost roll over – and you know how much we want you to. So you don’t. 🙂 Daddy and I are captured by your squeals of delight when you see the kitties; how much you love them, and how much they hate you. They will learn one day that you are more than the tiny person that whacks them on the nose when they sniff at you.
I love the way you hate tummy time, the way you instantly scream as if I am chopping off limbs when I place you on your stomach. Your little face screws up and your lip comes out and you burst into tears.
I have favorite clothes of yours that no longer fit you – others I saved in anticipation of you wearing them, only to find out I waited too long. Something about you not fitting into an outfit I bought tugs at my heart. You can never wear it again. Ever. You were only that small for such a short amount of time.
I am very tired, tiny beastling. You keep me up all night, up every hour with a scream that could deafen the neighbors. But I love how you curl up next to me and stop crying, how your ever so small tears run down your cheeks and you bury your face into my shoulder. I love how your hair is all fuzzy on the back of your head, how you have a perfect bald ring that looks like we put you in a baseball cap every day.