I've decided to (hopefully) write you a monthly letter to tell you about our impressions of you and your tastes as they develop. I'm afraid if I don't write them down, I will forget by the time you ask me about these details. As for last month, well that's already a blur. The first month of your life, you were more of a feeding, sleeping, crying, mound of poop to be cleaned up. A mound that we loved beyond words, but you didn't have much of a consistent personality beyond adorable. So really, if I wrote you a letter based on your first month of life, it would be redundant and pointless, like this:
You are totally cute and made of giggling buttons. You pooped on yourself and me a second ago and it was so CUTE. So I changed you into a new onesie that you look so PRECIOUS in. I love you muffin. Who's momma's muffinpants. That's right! You are my cupcake-head filled with ice cream yummies!..."
What I'm saying is now we see more of a pattern of behavior that we assume is the you coming out of you. Make sense? So here is what you are like at the close of your second month of life:
Lately, you seem to really get into "Cecilia" by Simon & Garfunkel. I realize that we are somewhat the product of our parents musical tastes, but this is a good duo to pass along to any generation. Both your father and I grew up on them and our appreciation for them has never faded. You definitely like certain music and seem to find others upsetting. Surprisingly, this morning I sang "War" to you and you were smiling at me when I asked you what it was good for. That's right North, absolutely nothin'.
You are going to be a force to be reckoned with. Sometimes the look on your face scares me because your earnest anger just seems so focused and mature. Seeing this in you since your first day, I know that we are born with this fire within us, it's not learned. And boy, you were certainly born with some fire in your eyes!
You smile now! Although I was tempted to proclaim you a genius child that smiled immediately after birth, I knew it was gas. Now, there is no mistaking that sweet toothless grin.
This morning while I was giving you your morning kisses, you started opening your mouth each time I gave you one. I never thought kissing someone without teeth would make me so happy. I'm sorry if that grosses you out.
Your favorite place to be is perched on someone's shoulder. But even then (like now) you may start spontaneously crying in a fit like I'm biting your fingers off. You can imagine the toning this is doing to mine and your father's arm and leg muscles flexing out countless quick squats to reach for your binkie for the 53rd time it has popped out of your mouth while keeping you perfectly bobbing at your favorite shoulder post. I like to think you are monitoring the perimeter and will alert me if ninjas start attacking from behind.
You love to bounce. One would think you were a ball in a past life such is the huge smile of contentment on your face while you are bouncing. Is this the price I now pay for remaining too active while you were germinating in my belly? Maybe the curse my mother put on me years ago to have "one just like you" has come to fruition? Naa, I think that was a curse meant for your teenage years...
Speaking of teenage years, you are quite a chatterbox already. And having a mouth full of binkie doesn't stop you from jabbering away. "Aye aye ayeayeyiyi," you always say. Exactly North. I couldn't have said it better myself.