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Letters to Makenna :: Three Months Old
Jumperoo

Hey Makenna,

It's mommy here. This is to be your first letter of many.

I had all of these grand plans to start a journal all about you and the daily wonders we're enjoying, but mommy wasn't very smart at estimating how much actual free time she'd have. As it turns out, you're rather stubborn. You'd rather do things with mommy than watch. With the possible exception of taking a number two, that's alright with me.

I can not believe you are already 3 and a half months old. The thought of you being 4 months old in two weeks blows my mind. It's going so fast. Every day is so different, I wish I could think of everything I want to say to you, to remember it, hold it, save it here. . . but the hormones are raging and mommy's recall is on a par with . . . um. . . what was I saying?

Bathtime.jpgI can, however, remember yesterday because it was amazing. We had two big firsts: Not only did you sit upright like a regular baby in your big orange BOB stroller for the first time (enough of that baby car seat already, huh?!), you laughed an actual, audible big-girl laugh.

Just two days ago, you had this funky little garbled, low-pitched staccato holler that was a strange little yell-laugh. Yesterday, your laugh changed. For the first time ever, you could hear "Ha ha haaaa!" just as perfect as anything. Where did the funny little yell-laugh go? What synapses connected that made yesterday different? One minute it didn't exist. The next, it did.

Stretch.jpgHere's how it went: We were down in the studio in the late afternoon on a cold, cloudy day. It was sprinkling outside. Daddy was holding you, all cozy in your thick white jammies in the Baby Bjorn. Mommy just walked in from getting her hair cut. We hadn't seen one another for a few hours and were very happy to reconnect, you and I. You laughed when you saw me, "HEE hee haaaa!".

Your daddy and I blinked, and looked at each other with eyes wide. Within seconds, I was dancing and jumping up and down like a chimpanzee - pretty much anything to keep you laughing. Daddy and I wanted to hear your surprisingly throaty little laugh again. We didn't want you to stop. And you didn't! Not for a long time. You were absolutely busting your little baby gut. And we loved it the way only new parents could. Anyone else would be making gagging noises while sticking their forefinger down their throat. But we couldn't get enough.

Yesterday was one of my favorite days since becoming a mom. Some days it can be tough; as with any new job, it takes a while to adjust to your new boss. From the moment you were born, you strapped on your little patent leather hip-boots and cracked your little leather bullwhip and became Her Supreme Majesty, Baby Makenna the Dictatrix. Your ascent was speedy and impressive, a total coup.

GymBaby2.jpgAnd like the adorable totalitarian dictator you are, you have your quirks. Not Kim Jong Il-type quirks, mind you, but quirks nonetheless. For instance, you set up some firm Rules and Consequences for Mommy and Daddy. The rules change, but the consequences are pretty much the same: You take your cute little baby lungs, inhale deeply, turn your mouth into a perfect rectangle and blow our eardrums out. When sheer volume doesn't bend us to your will, you will turn red and add real tears. It's 100% effective. None can resist those magical baby tears.

Here are today's 10 Rules for Mommy and Daddy, though tomorrow, I expect an encoded memo throwing these out and replacing them with new ones:

  1. You will carry me everywhere, and not even think of putting me down. I want to see everything, to ensure you're performing to my satisfaction.
  2. I mean it. Don't put me down. Especially not on my back. What? Your back hurts? That's SO not my problem.
  3. I am okay with my Jumperoo, but only for a little while. (See rules 1 and 2.) And no baby swing, or play gym, either. The vibro-chair may be acceptable for short moments. (Like your patting me dry after a warm bath.) I will let you know.
  4. If I'm hungry, present the boob promptly.
  5. I'm always hungry.
  6. That baby in the mirror is fun to play with for a little while. Then, she needs to go.
  7. When tired, keep my line-of-sight clear. That includes all toys, rattles, blankies and faces. Yes, even yours.
  8. When I choose to nap, my preferred mattress is your belly. (Hey. Now you've got an excuse for those soft, mushy guts you two are sporting these days. You can thank me later.)
  9. Don't wake me up. And no, needing to pee is not an excuse. If I wear diapers, so can you.
  10. When I wake up, refer to rule #1.

CampingBaby.jpgFor the record, despite the rules, we remain your happy subjects. After all, it's our prerogative to do things like give you hideously sappy nicknames and make you dance the Hustle for the video camera. I guess you have the right to retaliate.

Which reminds me, here are a few of your current nicknames: Snoogs (short for Snoogums), Peanut, Sweetpea, Woogs (short for Woogums), Lovebug, Babygirl, Snuggles, Girl-cub, Babybear, Mak, Kenna, Kenna-K and Milkmonkey.

Despite these abuses, you are a delight. We're a team and our family is so happy together, teenagers for miles around are compelled to roll their eyes for no apparent reason. You're such an incredibly happy, vocal and curious baby. Every morning, when I wake up to your huge toothless smile, it feels like Christmas.

We love you, baby girl!

Kisses,

Momma

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I am a writer and lazy artist who loves travel, architecture and design. Right now, I'm into photography. My fabulous husband (a.k.a. The Varmint) and I are also the principals of a San Diego-based creative agency - and new parents to the divine Baby Mak. Read More >