4 Months!

Today, baby girl, you are four months old. And what a month it's been!

We spent your very first Christmas in Dallas with your G-Mommy, Graddaddy, and Aunt Katie. And guess what? Your first Christmas was a white one! That's right, it snowed on Christmas Eve. Not the weak, barely there snow that we got here in Austin a few weeks earlier, but true, big-fat-flakes-drifting-from-the-sky snow. Real snow. Snow that stuck and covered the ground in a good inch of wintery whiteness. Can you believe it?? Your very first Christmas Eve and Christmas morning were filled with snow. In Texas. The Russian part of your heritage must really be looking out for you!

You loved Christmas. Not only did you get to see so many family members--Munna and Great-Grandma Thorn were there, too--but you were so fascinated by the crumpling sounds of paper and the glittery flashes of bows. We all talked about how next year you will be so different, so mobile, so much more of a handful. While I am looking forward to my walking, talking, handful of a daughter, I loved our first Christmas together, with you snuggling on my lap and looking around you, taking it all in, squealing with excitement, charming the hearts of everyone in the room.

And then, a week later, New Year's Eve. The end of a year. The end of an amazing year. The end of the most amazing year I've ever experienced. A year ago, your dad and I were getting ready to go out to a party with friends. We didn't yet know you, your spark, had already ignited and snuggled into me, already growing into the miracle that is you. This year, we spent the night in our pajamas instead of our party clothes. We stayed at home instead of going out. At midnight, your father and I kissed, like we do every year, and then we stole silently into your bedroom and watched you sleeping peacefully. We put our hands on your chest and felt the gentle rise and fall of your breath. We wished you a happy new year and felt more fulfilled, more hopeful, more confident than we ever have before at the dawn of a new year. I guess that's what happens when you have had the greatest year ever and know, looking forward, that it will only get better.

And then, the next week, when I went back to work, your dad did, too. No more staying at home with family members. From that point on, you went to daycare. I should say, from that point on, much to your delight, you went to daycare. It's true baby girl. You love it! There are so many toys and bright lights to entertain you. So many babies to watch and learn from. So many teachers there who love you and hold you--in fact, most of the time I show up to nurse you or take you home, you are being cuddled in the arms of some adoring teacher.

I want you to know I don't feel bad. I miss you like crazy every second of every day. I have your pictures surrounding me in my office, and sometimes I turn on my screen saver on my computer just so I can watch a slide show of you. But I don't feel bad that I am working and you spend your time at daycare. I fully believe in the benefits of the arrangement. I believe you are going to learn confidence and independence and an ability to be comfortable in new environments much more so than if you and I spent our time together at home all day every day. I believe you are going to learn more, both from the games and activities the teachers do with you (did you know you already did your first painting?!?) and from watching the other babies in the room, learning from mimicking them and their actions. And I am going to maintain the other parts of me besides the mom-part. And that is healthy. For me.

And the most bitter-sweet benefit: every second spent with you is so much infinitely sweeter and more cherished. I don't regret the increased sweetness our time together has . . . but I do lament the fact that it is a lowered supply that has increased the value.

It is important to me that you know, that you grow up knowing, that I miss you every second of every hour that we are apart. And that I still think this is a good arrangement for both of us.

You are the most delightful 4-month-old! You talk up a storm and have started to make discernible consonant noises--ba's and da's and ga's and ma's. Your very favorite thing to chew on is your hand . . . or really, both of your hands shoved as far into your mouth at the same time as possible . . . but really anything you can get your hands on now is going straight into your mouth. You are learning to reach for things and pull them to you. One of your favorite new things to stick in your mouth is your feet! You have discovered your feet, your constant companions, and you are constantly reaching for them, holding them, and sticking them in your mouth. It is positively one of the cutest things EVER. You hold on now when I carry you around, one little hand grasping my shirt, or my hair, or the skin on my neck. You take baths with either me or your dad in our big tub, and you love the feel of the warm water. We "swim" with you, turning you on your stomach and moving you back and forth the length of the tub, and every time we stop you kick your little legs as if saying, "more! more!" Your smile is infectious and when you are delighted by something your entire body convulses with silent joy, your arms and legs flailing wildly. The other day we had a dance party, and you had your first real laugh while watching your daddy dance in front of you. It was the most wonderful sound we've ever heard.

You are still my champion nighttime sleeper. There was a stretch last week where you woke up in the middle of the night almost every night for a week. We never knew what caused your troubled sleep--a growth spurt? A new developmental leap that is making your little brain work overtime? I think it was a combination of those things--you ate well each time you woke and then went right back to sleep. I was really tired that week. I am still getting up at midnight to pump milk for you, so I was back on a regimen of 2- to 3-hour chunks of sleep like I was when you were a newborn, only now I was at the office all day, unable to sneak in little catnaps during the day. But even as tired as I was, I loved our middle-of-the-night cuddles. It reminded me that you still need me so much. There will come a time when you no longer wake in the middle of the night, crying for your parents' arms. When you no longer nurse. When you no longer need the comforting smell and warmth of our touch. I am thankful for every moment we have when you still do need these things. (And, to be fair, I was also thankful when you went back to sleeping your usual 11-12 hours, too.)

You are on the brink of so many exciting things! Though you've been rolling stomach-to-back for two months now, you are starting to roll onto your side from your back, and it's only a matter of time that you finish that movement off and roll all the way over. When we put you on your stomach, you pull your knees up under you, the precursor to actual movement--crawling! Sometime here in the next 2 months we will start you on solid food, and a part of me will cry at the fact that you are no longer subsisting only on the milk I give you.

Every day I love you more. Every day, every new discovery, every new ability delights me as much as it does you.

Happy 4-month birthday to my feet-chewing, dance-laughing, tub-swimming, neck-holding sweet, adorable, lovely baby girl.

Love you to the ends of the universe and beyond,
Mom