My Ada Louise,
You’ve become the star of the single’s ward. You’re quite the adorable distraction. Every time we go to church I get nervous for our flight to Italy, but I’m hoping that between your charm (and good behavior) and some survival kits, we’ll make it okay. Your desire to move is coupled with the knowledge that you can pretty much get anywhere you want to go--between rolling and scooting. I think it makes you basically uncontainable. You pat everything furiously before picking it up. It’s like you make sure it’s good and dead before you risk grasping it with your hand.
Speaking of hand, yours got hurt last week and it was a reminder that many more injuries are sure to follow. Neither of us took it very well. You would throw both of your arms back, followed by your head and open your mouth to let out the most heartbreaking I-don’t-understand-this-pain cry. I’m not very proud of how I responded either. I was panicky and frantic. Not at all like the picture of calm and poise that I’ve always wanted to be in a scary situation.
Ada Louise, I am enamored with you. You bring me so much joy. I love watching your little hands grab tiny specks on the carpet. I love watching your fingers as they try to grab my hair while I sit above you and sing. I love nursing you and listening to your sweet gulping sounds. I love putting you to sleep and whispering about all the beautiful things we get to do the next day. I love your smiles and giggles and your ticklish thighs.
You have been waking up once a night for the past week or so. I was annoyed at first, wondering why it was 2 AM and I was walking to your room to pick up my crying girl. (Remember this whole sleeping for 10 hours straight business?) But last night was different. When I finally awoke, your cries seemed to have elevated to more of a wail. I wondered how long you had been crying for me to come. I quickly let you know I was there and picked you up. I stroked your cheek as I fed you and watched your little hands move. You fell asleep eating. As I changed your diaper as carefully as I could, your little eyes popped open but you laid there calmly as I finished. I zipped up your jammies and scooped you up. Then I turned off the lamp. You quickly fell limp in my arms, allowing me to trace your features with my fingers and hold you while I stroked your fuzzy hair. It was the second time that day that you fell asleep in my arms. I couldn’t help but think what a lucky Mama I am.
I can’t wait to travel the world with you, my curious girl. You so seldom hold still. It’s as if you’re running from time. Even though it’s catching up and you’re growing so big I can hardly stand it, I am constantly amazed at how much I love every new phase with you.