Dear Audric,
This morning I went into the bathroom and was mildly surprised to see David Bowie staring back at me in the mirror. I say mildly because given how terribly I’ve been sleeping lately, it’s not really that surprising that I look like an androgynous aging rock star.
Why have I been sleeping so poorly, you ask? Well, son, it has something to do with the fact that for the past three months, you have had two major illnesses, have suffered a “mild” case of separation anxiety (I wasn’t leaving the country, for God’s sake, just stepping into the kitchen!), have grown two more teeth, and you’ve learned how to sit-up and crawl on your own (these two happened just this past week). All of this has meant that sometimes you sleep 14 hours straight, and sometimes your father and I are up every two hours to soothe you back to sleep.
No, really, there’s no need to thank me. It’s been my pleasure. Just remember this moment when you earn your first million and need someone to spend it on. I take cash and diamonds.
But I can’t blame all of my insomnia on you, love. I’ve been going through my own changes lately, involving questions about what I should do next with my life. You know, now that I have this parent thing down pat.
Right.
Don’t misunderstand me, please. I am completely, one hundred percent THRILLED that I get to spend my days with you and your brother. But sometimes I also feel like I miss being active in a project that takes me out of our house once in a while, and gives me something to think about other than diapers and play dates.
One day, you’ll know what I mean.
Yet, I have to say that these past few months have been some of the best in my life, even though some moments I feel like I am climbing the walls. Both you and your brother are such lovely people, and your peals of laughter when you’re playing together make it all worthwhile.
I’m sure I’ll figure this all out sooner or later and will find the right balance of work and life to keep me sane and interesting. Just don’t hold it against me if I take you to an Occupy Wall Street rally, okay? Trust me, someday you’ll be bragging to some girl you want to impress that you were holding a picket sign before you could walk.
While feeding you dinner tonight of mashed corn and chicken, I noticed that the fat rolls on your wrists are starting to thin out. It’s the first sign of impending toddlerhood, along with the desire to physically explore the world around you and the consistent pointing and babbling you’ve been doing. As you sat in your high chair, I traced the line on your wrist and hands, and in response you crinkled your nose at me and smiled. I had to fight back the tears. You are growing so fast you make me want to pull time back just a few minutes every day so that I can savor your infancy a bit longer.
Why does the act of having children make you feel instantly old, even when you enjoy their youthful antics by participating in the silliness as much as possible?
Speaking of silly antics, you are a real comedian, child! You find everything funny, and look for ways to make other people laugh.
I wasn’t expecting this side of you, considering how quiet and gentle you were when first born. Now, you are neither quiet nor gentle, my dear. You are the LOUDEST baby we have ever known, making everyone cringe when you yell your displeasure or demand we attend to you in your crib. Even Gideon has taken to saying, “Okay, Audric! Calm down!”
Of course, you just laugh in response and get even louder. Lunchtime around here is especially scary.
You make me feel lucky to be alive, caballito, if only so I could get to know you. Anything else that comes along is just icing on the cake.
Con mucho amor para siempre,
Mama
