My little baby turned one today.

Dear Goo,

In the beginning you grunted all night long while sleeping, and spit up a lot after you ate, so I spent many a night sleeping* in our rocking chair while holding you upright to try and avoid the afore mentioned spit up and grunting. You slept well, but Jake and I did not.

We lived in Chicago for most of that phase. We had communal laundry facilities in the basement of our building, and I couldn't wait to move to a place with a washer and dryer in our house to help make all of the laundry from all of the spit up easier.

At seven weeks we left your first home and journeyed back to Oklahoma (you've lived in three houses already, can you believe it?). So much of the last ten months seems like a blur to me, honestly. That's how it goes for mothers. Days in and days out, but the gravity of all that is happening in those days that all seem to blend together [and go by too fast] is evidenced by the love that grows and grows.

Early on, you started talking. Your favorite phrase was "Goo." It was so sweet. You would say it, and we would repeat it, and then you'd say it to us again.

You became my "GooGoo Baby." Some might think Goo is a funny nickname, but I can't help it. You wanted so much to talk with us and be part of us, and you did and you were, and Goo reminds me of that. So, Goo, someday when you're going off to college, which will feel like tomorrow, I'm sure, and I whisper "I love you, Goo" as I send you into the great unknown, you'll know why.


For now, I'll love on your squishy cheeks, and blow through your wispy hair, and smile every time I see your perfect gappy front teeth. You're sassy and always let us know what you want. You love your sister, and you rarely shy away from a cuddle. You enjoy dancing and singing. And yelling. You yell a lot. And you are loud. You're not mad or upset, just yelling [and sometimes the volume and consistency make me feel a little ill, but I love that you love to be heard]. You have super tiny hands and feet. You almost wear a size two shoe. But not quite. It's such a miracle to watch your little fingers do big things.

You are a miracle. I can't imagine my life without you and everything you add to me and our family. You've taught me more about how to be a mother - I've grown more confident since you arrived. You like to wake up before seven every morning. And you still like to eat at least twice every night. When you're feeling shy, you put the tip of one finger (usually a pointer) between your teeth...of which you have six. And just in case you are interested, according to my non-technical way of standing on the scale while holding you, you weigh about eighteen pounds.

Happy Birthday, Magnolia. You have and will continue to change my life for the better. You're in bed now, but I can't wait to kiss your head when we encounter one another for our first meeting tonight.

Love. Love. Love. You. You. You. Goo. Goo. Goo. [Baby.]

1 comment:

  1. I love Mommy nicknames. They're the closest, purest. Love you and your Goo.



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