My dear Baby Bug,
It’s almost your second birthday! Why, I really can’t believe it; I still remember you so small and helpless. I still remember the sleep-deprived haze of the first few nine months. I still remember….
I’m sorry; when you are 15, or 13, or perhaps even sooner than that, you will read this post and want to kill me. I will show it to any prospective young men who come sniffing around, and you will REALLY want to kill me. I know, because we still have a picture of me at 3 months laying in the buff on a bearskin rug. I kid you not. So, Bug, I can empathize with your teenagerly outrage.
But I can’t help myself! Look at those baby cheeks! That little baby mouth! That round, round face! This is you at 6 months. Just be happy you have hair. Trust me.
And here you are, 10 months old. Still with the sweet cheeks, but looking slightly more like a person and slightly less like a stay-puft marshmallow baby. (Wait, did I just write that?? SORRY!)
I especially love how your little teeny toes are barely poking out of your pants.
Here you are on your first birthday…and you will LOVE me for this one! You really liked this crown, although we forgot about it until everyone had left and it was waaaaay past bedtime. Which is why, about 30 seconds after this picture, you fell over flat on your face (hey, you’d only just mastered walking) and were inconsolable. But hey, the crown was great while it lasted!
And, oh my goodness, brand new little you! Here you are, just one day old. And, except for the hair (which I’ve said before, you LUCKED OUT with the hair, little girl. I mean, little bald boys are fine. Bald girls get hair bows taped to their heads, and I don’t think you would have liked that very much.) you look just like your big brother. Just exactly, exactly like his little twin who is just maybe a little more soft and delicate looking. Or is that my culturally ingrained conceptions of “girl” coming out?
Anyway, looking at you now, I can hardly believe you were ever this small, but you were! Oh! but you were. Our tiny little mouse. Or, tiny little mouse-beast with a cry to wake all the wee dead mouse-beasties from the grave. I’m just sayin’–if you were baby #1, I don’t think we’d necessarily be a two-baby family right now. That’s all.
So, as we approach the big TWO for my little baby bug, I just wanted to capture a few of my fave Bug pictures.
[And also say a quick prayer of gratitude to whichever saint is in charge of peacefully sleeping-thought-the-night babies. I haven’t forgotten what those first nine months were like, I promise. So, consider this my candle lighting of the year.]