I know you and I got off to a rocky start, both unsure of each other and our place in this world. But we figured it out. A year in and you are firmly in “momma’s girl” camp. You’re a cuddler, too, which is not something I ever expected of the baby who screamed to be put down to sleep after leaving the NICU. I’ll never tire of the way you grin at me as you swivel on your feet and walk towards me, leaning forward faster than your feet can keep up until you collapse in my arms, head on my shoulder. I love your snuggles and baby hugs, and now your audible lip-smacking kisses.
You’re becoming quite the person now, with opinions and protests and personality quirks. You’re vocal and explosive – you have your little fits and then it’s over and you move on. You are not a fan of your sister’s overly-friendly attention, which generally involves you being pushed to the floor for hugs and kisses; I’m pretty sure one day very soon you’re going to start pushing back.
You are bold. You decide what you are going to do and you do it, no looking for direction or affirmation. Sometimes that can be troublesome (and sometimes dangerous), but I really admire that trait. I think you are going to do fantastic things in your life by being able to just jump in. I hope you keep that part of your personality. I hope my motherly anxiety and “be careful”s don’t hold you back. Of course I want you to be careful and not get hurt… but don’t be burdened by the anxiety that I carry.
Someone (okay, my therapist) once said that you are going to teach me things. It rung true at the time, and it still does today. You were this little spark of life, our surprise that kept me guessing. You challenge me, and in that you teach me things about myself. You have taught me other ways of looking at things, other perspectives, other rules.
You are my Ember, my flame. I love you.
PS – I would also learn a lot better if you would let me sleep for longer than 2 hours at a time. Just a thought.