Month One

I had promised myself some time ago that I would not try to copy Dooce when I write. After all, when people want to read Heather Armstrong’s website, they actually go to her website, not mine. Besides, copying is a cop-out, after all. I have to put myself out there, not someone else.

But.

I love Dooce’s idea of writing a letter to her daughter every month. I have envied this idea for quite some time. It is actually not new to me; when I was a kid, I read this book called Memo To Myself When I Have A Teenage Daughter. The book is about a teenaged girl (big surprise) who writes memos to herself (big big surprise) and then it turns out her mother kept a diary when she was a teenager that she shows her and reveals all this stuff about her character. As a pre-teen, I loved it. For most of junior high and highschool I wrote pages of inane, boring stuff about my life, purely to use as a torture device for my future offspring.

So the idea of writing a letter once a month is dangerously close to this other idea of writing for a future child, and I was automatically attracted to it. But, is it really ethical to copy somebody else’s idea? Hmmmmmm.

Ah, what the hell. It’s the Internet.

Month One

Dear Maya,

You are one month old today. I can’t tell you how much we adore you — your father, your brother and myself. We fight over who gets to hold you and play with you when you are awake. We love to pat your soft head or stroke your soft hands and feet. We love to put you in cute outfits and take lots of pictures. We talk about you all the time — your poops, your sounds, your expressions. You are the center of our lives.

Everyone told me that your big brother would have a hard time adjusting after you came, and that he might be mean to you or become jealous. That hasn’t been the case at all. On the contrary, nobody prepared me for the overwhelming affection Ben has for you. He wants to take care of you all the time, whether you need it or not. He runs screaming, “Baby ‘Mergency! Baby ‘Mergency!” through the house if you so much as whimper in your sleep. He observes your moods: “Maya doesn’t like to be left alone. Maya doesn’t like it if I look at her too long. Maya is sad/unhappy/wants milk.” He was nearly beside himself when he saw Daddy feeding you with a bottle for the first time, and I had to yell at him repeatedly to put the bottle back in the fridge. He wanted to feed you, too. He has to be present when I change you or bathe you, and he gets upset if I don’t pick you up right away when you cry. Ben is completely in love with you, his little sister, and can talk of little else. He reassures me: “Maya loves me. And I love her.” He has patted your head so many times, he’s actually rubbed the baby hair off (which would have fallen out eventually, of course) so now you look a little bit like a bald man. But you’re still beautiful.

Daddy is also completely smitten with you. He wants to hold you and I have to tug you out of his arms so I can nurse you. When you cry at night, he actually wakes up and comforts or changes you (which he never did with Ben — he would sleep right through hours of crying. He slept through Ben crying too.) He bought you some cute outfits and spends most of his free time either taking pictures of you or posting those pictures (and now video, too) to his new blog. He is unbelievably excited about you, his little girl.

Your mama is no less excited. I can’t believe how perfect you are. Your feet are a tiny version of my own feet, and this seems a marvel to me. You have my long fingers and my full lips. Your eyes are blue right now and they are stunning with your ruddy complexion. And let me talk about your coloring! You have skin like my sister’s: a little dark and smooth as silk. I can’t stop petting your arms and feet when I hold you, and people gathered to touch your soft little head after you were born (also why the hair was rubbed off). You are a beautiful, beautiful baby, and just looking at you fills my heart to the brim.

Today you played in your baby gym for almost 45 minutes, with the help of big brother. You like to touch things and hear them crinkle, and of course you like to chew on anything that happens to reach your sweet baby mouth. You like to sleep on people and you don’t sleep as well if you are by yourself. You sleep with mama and daddy or in a little co-sleeper next to us, and sometimes I wake up to a tiny little hand flung on my chest.

You have no idea how amazing that is.

In four short weeks you have captured all our hearts, Maya-girl. Congratulations on being a month old and joining the family.

Love,

Mama