Dear CeCe – One day you’re going to yell at me and slam your door and demand to be taken seriously and I’m going to take a deep breath and remember how you used to get done breastfeeding, smack your lips, drooooooooool everywhere, sigh, and fall asleep in my arms. You’re three months old now and this month has been all about laughter! You start my day awesome with a HUGE toothless grin and a slight tilt of your head so your eyes are sidelooking me like we share a secret. I hope your daddy never finds out this is how you look in the morning because I want these moments all to myself. Truthfully, I’m considering it my award for the hours upon hours I spend wiping your
You moved in to your big girl crib a few weeks ago. There was a lot of anxiety and tears, and sleepless nights and staring at the ceiling, and begging for the swing but eventually I got used to it. You? You just handled it like a pro. If you were a teenager you’d be furrowing your brow at me, throwing a hand on your hip, and going . . . “what? . . . geez . . . its not a big deal.”
The big girl crib has brought the beginnings of a routine in to our lives. My favorite part is that now we get to read books together before bed (well, that and I no longer have to tiptoe around our bedroom at night which was never very successful given how clumsy I am). I also realize day by day how much I sound like my mother, your MiMi. When we sat down to read before bed the other night I said “Are you ready?!” right as I cracked open the book. My tone as syrupy sweet and full of excitement as someone asking a puppy if they’re ready to go on a walk. It is the exact.same.way my mom would have said it. I mean if one of us was to ever become a dictator and need a body double – your MiMi and I could apparently make that happen pretty convincingly. Perhaps it sounds like I’m not excited about sounding just like your MiMi but I secretly am. Its like I’ve earned my mommy merit badge in linguistics.
Playing in your play gym is a big part of your day every day. With it of course comes your love of puppy. Puppy is a cuddly stuffed animal that was monogramed for you by a dear friend. When she gave it to you I was so in love with it I used all my mommy mind control to convince you to love it as much as I do. And you do. You like to keep him close by, usually pulled in to your side with one arm. You fall asleep at night with fists full of puppy fuzz. It makes me fall in love with you more every time I see it.
You’re not just a mommy’s girl though, far from it. You get to spend several days a week with daddy as your only caregiver and you clearly love it. I get videos while I’m working of you two dancing and singing Mariah Carey in the kitchen, or you helping daddy vacuum by holding the cord, or talking to Tanis and Biscuit.
Your daddy has sung to you ever since you were in my tummy. This month it seems like you’re singing back. When he holds you and sings you laugh, and coo, and open your mouth, and stick out your tongue, and frequently copy the sounds he is making. My prayer is simple, if you’re going to love singing as much as your daddy (and I!) do . . . then please Lord let you have inherited your daddy’s talent. Yes, amen, bless you Jesus, please.
We love you nubbins / chickie-cheese / boo boo .