I still can't believe how easy she is. This is that mythical 'angel baby' that I read about in the parenting books when I was pregnant my first go-around. She rarely cries, is soothed easily, is generally content and easygoing. Again, I'm pinching myself. Both Steve and I are in awe. I wear her everywhere, although the ring sling is getting less comfortable and now our go-to is my new girasol wrap or the ergo. I love the sweet smiles from strangers when we're out and about and Dani's wrapped up and snuggly against me--usually sleeping as she takes marathon naps when being worn. I feel so honored that I get to be her mother.
Of course the drawback to being a more relaxed and easygoing parent with your second child is the fact that you're more stretched for time and the one-to-one attention which you desperately want to give them. Every day I get a new chance to strive for balance--some days I fail and other days the scales tip towards something I can accept. It's so much harder to keep up with all of her changes and simply the evolution that is Dani...like I could with Mila. And yet I want to remember Dani in all those little and big ways, the way I could with her sister. Maybe in some ways I'm even more desperate to get it all down, wanting to defy so badly the second-child stereotype.
And so I will write about the way she froths at the mouth, a veritable drool-bucket, so much spit and dribble on her chin that the front of her shirt will be soaked within a couple hours upon waking. The way she keeps her arm bent, hand fisted and tucked around her ear when she's nursing to calm a stressful moment. Her shy and easygoing smiles in the early morning. The nearly audible sigh of relief that her whole body takes as she's being swaddled at night. She cranes her neck looking for any of us, those lips pursed like a bird you almost expect to hear coo's. How when she's on her tummy and spots herself in the mirror she'll burst into a lazy, lopsided grin and her eyes crinkle in sheer delight of that other baby. The way she intently studies everything we do together as I'm carrying her; wide-eyed and storing it away for future use. The stinky, sweaty insides of her palms in the morning as I unswaddle her. How she puts her entire hand in her mouth and audibly goes to town when she's not busy nursing. Her triple stack of chins that is most pronounced when she's studying her fingers. The quiet calm and ease with which she lets us give her a bath. That moment when she unlatches and, asleep, rests her head against me while tilting her head upwards. The way her lashes frame her sweet sleeping face. Her hands which flap and startle from a still-present Moro reflex when I pounce near her. She tilts her head towards mine and gapes up when I kiss her on the mouth. Giggles which are more like deep chortles when I'm tickling her, gently grabbing fistfuls of chubby thighs or poking her armpits. I can't make time stand still but these days one of my highest priorities (after that whole food/clothing shelter thing is taken care of) is getting it all down on paper.
|See what I mean? She practically needs her own spit cup.|
Happy 4 months my darling Dani Lu.
God bless you.