Sunday, June 1, 2014

Twenty-Four

Somewhere between I Can't Believe This and Finally, my baby is turning two. Thankfully I don't feel like I've just given birth yesterday but it still seems entirely too soon for a second birthday.

Twenty four months.

It's been twenty-four months since she was born, a rainy Friday morning. Months since we brought her home only hours later that afternoon. Months since we introduced her to her older sister, who was wholly unimpressed with our decision to create this new addition. Months since postpartum depression caught me like the plague and threatened to never let go. Months since I came out of the fog, smiled with my baby's smile, laughed with her first laugh, squealed and cheered on her first crawls, and full-out jigged when she began to walk (spoiler alert: rapidly progresses from wobbly to dangerously quicker than Mommy.)

Tonight my husband and I are sitting and reminiscing about time gone by. As we talk, it becomes painfully obvious that my memory has been significantly damaged by pregnancy, childbirth, and an unnatural amount of night feedings. (Sorry but there's nothing natural about feeding another human being when I'm supposed to be sleeping.)

It's hard to think that these Mommy Brains of mine might not remember all the things I love about my little girl. So here are twenty-four of them that I never want to forget:

  1. The way she climbs out of her crib in the morning and barrels straight out of her room like a cannon.
  2. The way she calls me "Mama" in a baby voice, when she needs me to melt. 
  3. The way she refuses to separate apples from other fruits. Mommy, I want one apple-pear.
  4. The way she throws in extra consonants into long words. Mommy, I want a banalanalalana.
  5. The way she eats yogurt with her hands.
  6. The way she brushes her hair with the bristles facing out. 
  7. The way she swallows the (fluoride-free; relax) toothpaste and then spits out saliva. 
  8. The way she runs, by kicking her feet forward and bouncing on the heels of her shoes.
  9. The way she smiles for a picture, by tilting her head and blinking rapidly.
  10. The way she jumps off ledges without looking and then runs frightened from strangers.
  11. The way she says "eweven." It comes after ten.
  12. The way she beckons with her tiny little hands when she wants you to follow.
  13. The way she bellows "SHHH!" when she's hiding.
  14. The way she cheers for her accomplishments. Even the ones that follow my desperate cry of "No!" Like when she jumps off the back of the couch. Or swings off the table. 
  15. The way she wiggles all of her fingers when she tries to hold up just two.
  16. The way she holds out her hand and says, "Stop!" when you're going too fast. 
  17. The way she pronounces her name as Rishka.
  18. The way she sings Happy Birthday to herself nearly every morning.
  19. The way she swings off the counters and climbs onto nearly any surface. 
  20. The way she opens the refrigerator and helps herself to its contents. 
  21. The way she puts soggy cereal back in the box when she's decided she's had enough.
  22. The way she puts her face directly into mine when she wants my attention.
  23. The way she watches men working out in the park and then proceeds to work out with them. 
  24. And G-d knows why, but the way we found her in her crib tonight. Sleeping peacefully in her birthday suit.
The hours between 4:30 and 6:30 every night feel like an eternity each time around, but somehow it is still hard to believe that all this time has passed.

Happy Birthday Rivka! 

Here's to another year.

Full throttle.