“A first child is your own best foot forward, and how you do cheer those little feet as they strike out. You examine every turn of flesh for precocity, and crow it to the world. But the last one: the baby who trails her scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no more coming after–oh, that’ s love by a different name.”
Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible
I’m not going to lie – This baby has a very special place inside my heart. Of course, all of my kids hold their own unique place in my memories, and yes, babies are squishy and undeniably irresistible, but still.
There’s something about the last.
I’m really cherishing the moments with Annika. I don’t feel emotional or sappy about her being my last. On the contrary, I feel like I can truly delight in her knowing that she will be my last baby. Last kid forever? Meh…I don’t know. I will never count out the option of adoption for our family.
But last newborn? Last baby to cut teeth and find her voice, and offer baby giggles when you make just the right sound? Yeah, she’s it.
I’m not in a hurry with this one. I’m taking my time, loving every minute I get with her (when she’s not screaming, of course), and I’m slowly figuring her out. I can’t pinpoint her personality just yet. She’s not quite as determined as her sister was, nor is she as fun-loving and happy as Landon. She reminds me of Sloan. Serious. Studying everything and everyone.
And when she decides she wants to give you a smile of encouragement, she does so. If you aren’t really that funny, though, she can make you feel like a bit of a tool for trying.
I’m just really looking forward to watching this one grow up. I know it will go fast – history has proven that to be true. But for now, in this moment, I’m just going to enjoy her. Each stage brings memories of the last three. Each milestone brings an excitement of the fun to come.
We didn’t plan on this one, but goodness, am I glad she’s here. She is my flag of surrender, and when she looks up at me with those big, inquisitive eyes, the burst of love is about all I can handle.
In a time when life feels unpredictable, I’m infinitely thankful for this last baby hurrah. She’s brought a love that is something fierce, and oh so sweet.
Okay, so let’s just acknowledge the elephant in the room.
I didn’t blog yesterday.
Look, people – I am an infant. I cannot possibly be expected to accomplish all that’s required of me on a daily basis, what with the constant growing, needing to be fed, sleeping, and other requirements placed on people of my size. And now you want me to blog for 31 days straight?
Absurd.
In fact, I decided that yesterday was going to be a party day, and I refused sleep most of the day, which the parental units loved, of course, because it meant they got to see my eyes all day. I could tell they loved it by the way they sighed contentedly each time they picked me up and rocked me.
THEY WERE SO HAPPY!
I had to give up the fight around 6:00 last night, though, when dad held me tight against his chest. I’m not sure what kind of aftershave he uses, but it is like a drug. I am powerless against it’s scent, and it sends me straight into slumber every time he holds me like that. It’s really not a fair fight, if you think about it.
Mom-lady woke me up at 8:00 to feed me, because apparently she is fearful that my growling stomach will interrupt her “beauty sleep.” Heh…
Incidentally, what is this business about “nothing good happening after midnight?” That’s a lie! There’s some serious partying to be done in those dark, nighttime hours. It just so happens that I love the 3:15-5:00 hours. Mom-lady might as well throw on some party tunes and grab her Red Solo Cup, because I’m here to have a good time, baby!
Sadly, she tired of our middle of the night party and laid me down while I was still wide awake, and she left me there…SWADDLED! With my arms pinned to my side like some crazy person in a straight jacket.
S’okay.
I finished the party on my own, and she got to watch me live it up on the monitor. I didn’t give up the fight until my older brothers and sister got up for breakfast, and mom-lady dragged herself from bed to go feed them.
I win again… (maniacal laugh)
This month, I’m linking up with The Nester for this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
watched slept through a gymnastics practice, and two soccer games.
I went to a friend’s house for dinner,
and to church.
Then I attended my first tea party, after which I sunbathed slept in the shade by the pool at my grandmother’s condo.
This is me, silently praying they don’t dunk me in that ice water again…
PEOPLE!
I’m exhausted.
This month, I’m linking up with The Nester for this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
On my third morning in this place they call home, mom-lady told dad that she had a dream. A couple named Brad Pitt and Angeline Jolie came to visit because, apparently, they wanted to meet me.
Mom-lady told dad that Angelina, or “Angie,” held me and coo’ed (people do that when they hold me) while she spoke with Brad about a movie called Romeo and Juliette, and whether or not some guy name Leonardo DiCaprio is a good actor.
Whatever the heck that means.
Dad picked me up and held me out in front of him. “I wonder if Brad and Angie wanted to adopt you,” he said, and they both laughed.
Frankly, I didn’t find that funny at all.
My parents are weird.
Join me in this 31 Day series as I survive the newborn haze of sleepless nights, endless nursing, and squeezing in life in twenty minute increments throughout the day. If you want to receive the posts directly in your email inbox, just leave your email address in the box on the sidebar, and subscribe so you don’t miss a post!
I’ll share photos every day, some of them good, and some of them mediocre, because baby leaves me little time to worry about taking and editing the perfect photos.
I’ll also be sharing my daughter’s thoughts, as dictated to me telepathically while she nurses, because she has informed me that she is a mind ninja, and I am merely her portal to the outside world.
Her words, not mine.
*wink*
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