Five Months

In the Sling
Originally uploaded by ellenjohnrubicon.

Dear Rosy,

On Thanksgiving Day you turned five months old. Five months! The shenanigans! Your growing up is bittersweet, but I will say that given the opportunity to replay the past five months, I would run in the opposite direction. I love the place where we've arrived. I love the snuggling and the sweetness. I love where we are headed.

Who are you at five months? You are almost sitting. The problem is not the control and coordination, it's your undying need to reach objects all around you. You don't sit still long enough to sit. Your little hands are like backhoes, grasping for anything and everything all day long. An endless game of bobbing for apples. It is precious and occasionally a bit dangerous. You ate the New York Times on Thanksgving. You've knocked pots off the counter. You try to get my coffee mugs. Stubborn and curious. Just like your daddy.

As your teeth come in, you need a whole lot of me. Basically you rotate through my arsenal of slings all day long. I'd complain if I didn't secretly love the warmth of your fuzzy head under my nose, and when you give up on being awake and burrow your nose into my chest, like magic. These days are so short-lived. I am soaking you in and loving every little bit.

You pulled your sister's hair last week. That was grand. You love to swing and spin in the Johnny Jump. You ride in the stroller peacefully, for the most part. You even slept in it twice this weekend!
You love people who engage you. You listen to stories and try to grab the book from me, which infuriates Sophie. You watch tv. You spend the dinner hour launching toys from your booster. Unlike Sophie at this age, you don't seem particularly interested in our eating, but only because you're studying the nuances of the Haba rattle construction.

Oh precious girl. You are so funny. Your smiles light up the room. Your big wide open mouth kisses are a reason to live. The other day I caught Sophie very gently rubbing your fuzzy head. There is a lot of love for this Rose. Your dad says you've wrapped him around your little finger. This has been a month of falling in love with the person you'll eventually be. Rosy is emerging. More every day.

To think, last Thanksgiving I hadn't even met the midwife. This year I had you as my sous chef. What a remarkable gift.

Thank you for being my constant companion,
love
mama