motherhood – Page 4 – Angel Wheeler

I feel like whining

T minus 10 hours before the clock tolls April 13th. The day I dread. The day I must return to work and leave my baby with a sitter. The diaper bag is packed with everything possibly needed from a change of clothes to a snot sucker. The bottles of pumped breast milk are made with me having not a clue if it’s too much or not enough.

I know she’ll be fine.
I know I’m not the only mother that has ever walked this path.
But it doesn’t make it any easier.
It’s only 7 weeks. That’s what I keep telling myself. 33 days till summer vacation.
But it doesn’t make it any easier.

I have relished the past eleven weeks. Basked in the time I’ve had to hold her and nurse her. Rock her and nap with her. Play with her and love her.

It’s only 7 weeks. 33 days.

But still this mama’s heart is sad.

The ol’ Thumb Trick

I know this is bad.

But isn’t it just so darn cute?

Emma Kate was hungry. And if you can’t get the real thing to suck on, you go for the second best thing. She hit the jackpot with her thumb and was going to town on it.

At first she had both her thumb and her forefinger in there, but shortly lost the forefinger and discovered the thumb was the way to go.

I’m not encouraging it, I just had to get a picture of it.

1 month old

My Darling Emma Kate,

I’m writing to you, my precious, even though I know you can’t read yet. But you’re so smart, I’m convinced it will probably only take you another couple of months at the rate you’re going! I want to capture your life and all its milestones, stepping stones, and rocky roads you travel until that glorious day when you string sounds together on paper and read words. Then we can write your life together. Won’t that be fun?

You were already thinking, "I know this old gal."

You’ve walked this earth for one month today. Technically you haven’t walked this earth. You haven’t crawled, scooted or even rolled this earth. Rather you’ve been lugged and toted, passed from person to loving person who simply adore you and practically come to blows over whose going to hold you next. Truthfully, I’ve actually witnessed 2 grown men holler, “I’ve got her” and race each other to your crib when you made the littlest possible squeak. Teenagers used to do that when the telephone rang, back when I was a girl.

This is where your feet are while I type this, causing my mouse to move all over and my screens to disappear.

You are simply adored. You have no idea how many people love you, and I do mean love you. Full, unmeasured, unconditional love. I update my Facebook status regularly with posts all about you and show your pictures and can you believe that people who aren’t even your blood kin call you beautiful!! And that’s because you are. Just remember to always act beautifully, okay? What your insides look like is more important in this life than your outsides. Beauty fades, sweet girl. But right now, you own it. You have the sweetest round face, the longest eyelashes, and the best smile of any baby I’ve ever seen. You’ve been smiling since we first saw you. People say it’s gas, but I believe you’re happy to be here. You had to wait a long time, but now you’re here.

Your pudgy belly hangs over your little newborn britches, making you absolutely squeezable. You are weighing in at a hefty 9 lbs .3 ounces and are 20 7/8″ long. The doctor says you look great, you are about in the 50th percentile in height, weight, and head size, which is just a big way of saying you’re absolutely perfect! Your lungs sound good. You are a healthy girl, fearfully and wonderfully made in His image, and oh how I thank Him daily for you.

You are strong and are beginning to hold your head up for longer and longer periods of time. You were alert from day one, and other than beautiful, it’s the second most commented aspect of your personality. Sometimes, it’s as if you are just going to open your mouth and start talking. Your aunt Jolea said it’s as if you have an old soul. My friend, Mrs. Z said you act like a 3 month old in a newborn outfit.

Lots of people say you look like your daddy, a few say me, and a handful say there are parts of your grandpa in you. Even I see that sometimes, especially when you first wake up all groggy acting, and tufts of hair from your balding head are sticking out on the sides.

I already think you’ve grown so much this first month, and I want time to slow down, but at the same time, I can’t wait to see who you’re going to be. Are you going to be outgoing? Daredevilish? Reserved? Quiet? Creative? Outdoorsy? Will you like peas and bananas or will you spit them out? I already know you’re going to love strawberries because I dreamed it. I can’t wait to hear you laugh, and I look forward to our future. We are going to have such fun.

You are the light of my life. My sunshine. You make me happy all the time, when skies are gray or blue.

You will never, never, never know how much I love you, baby girl.

XOXO,

Mommy

Emotions.

The first time I watched the movie Raising Arizona, I couldn’t believe how stupid it was. But, in its defense, I didn’t really watch it. I busied myself with other things, catching snippets here and there while my husband sat in his chair giggling his little butt off at, in my opinion, bad actors.

At a later date, I watched a little more of it, and then a little more, until finally I’d seen the entire movie and understood it.

In case you’ve never seen Raising Arizona, it’s about a couple (one outlaw, one law enforcement officer) who can’t have any children so they decide to kidnap one from a rich man and his wife who recently had quintuplets. They figured that was too many babies for one couple and they probably wouldn’t even miss one anyway.

Here’s a little clip from the movie. This scene takes place right after they have abducted Nathan Jr. and have him in the car.

I so get this. I so get her. That woman is me in a nutshell. And J-Dub too.

We are utterly, completely head over feet in love with our new baby. To the point of tears. Add to that, my hormones which are up, down, east, and west and I can break down at any moment.