Two months of your life have now flown by! Can it really be that you and I have played, slept, and nursed together each and every one of those sixty-one days? Yes, it really is true. You are your father’s and my delight.
You are sleeping right now, but you just needed me to tuck you in tighter to help you nod off again. It’s funny how so many times I desperately hope you’ll just sleep, but when you do I cannot wait for you to wake up again. I miss you when you rest. In the mornings when we are both waking up, I watch you out of the corner of my eye as you every so slowly wake. I doze and listen to your legs kicking away your blankets, your fists beginning to pump the air, and then your coos turn into outright squeals as you open your eyes wide and catch the ceiling fan turning above, casting shadows on morning’s light across our bedroom.
There are so many things I cannot wait to show you. I think of how wonderful life will be when you are older and you can enjoy the experience with your daddy and me. But today and every time you wake, I pick you up and hold your little head close to mine, breathing in your scent and kissing your little cheeks. I keep trying to remind myself just how fleeting these moments are. You are still so little, and I need to just treasure those moments as they occur. The experiences will come, since this is an experience in itself that I never want to forget.
Oh, what a darling baby you are. I really cannot get enough of just you. Even your little humanly imperfections are perfect to me–your adorable hang nails, your stinky breath, even those small waxy ears. What might be gross to some only reminds me that you are in fact a little person, and you’re here. I still have to pinch myself sometimes that this is life–you are alive–and there is no going back. All those months of waiting for your arrival were so different, so naive.
At this age, you smile wide and you smile often. You coo at symmetry and movement, and soon I know you’ll be giggling and grabbing at everything with those tiny little fists, like how you clasp onto my hair every time I wear it down.
Keep smiling, baby. I cannot wait to spend this month with you, but don’t wake up just yet.
Could have done without this on my whiteboard this morning…
Anyone who has spent any time with Claire knows that she’s a huge Harry Potter fan.
She was in that generation of kids (which I missed by a couple of years) that grew up with these books. Claire’s approach to them is pretty amusing and since I’ve always enjoyed them, too, we watch the movies and read the books and have discussed them pretty in depth quite a bit.
Because of those discussions, I know that Claire’s going to freak out for a little bit when the next movie comes out. I’m getting myself prepared for it and this will not help…
A picture from the weekend:
Hayes 301, all grown up.
Pretty ladies. I would like them to now come back.
Whenever the roommates are reunited, I like to think of it as something of a Glorious Reunion.
- Testing the waters on an overcast Sunday
There’s something to be said about college friends and the bubbling-over of memories that come with each reunion. This one was particularly special for me, since it introduced three of my closest to my to-be-for-life significant other.
Not much of what we did was particularly out of the norm, aside from gorging ourselves with delicious food and postponing any diet “one more week.” We toured around Charleston, braved the overcast skies and did what we could to savor the weekend together – a weekend that went much too fast. Continue reading
I just need to put this out there from the beginning: this post is going to be a tad ridiculous. That said, I am now going to embrace the silliness wholeheartedly.
One of the fun, girly things that my girly friends have been asking me lately is if I have started to practice my new signature. Oddly, it’s been a few years since I’ve had a crush on a boy in this way and felt the need to daydream about our future love, marriage , and doodle my first name with his last all over my binder. I guess you could say the humiliation factor of someone potentially seeing my name with his intertwined all over my notebook was a little bit of a turn-off.
So, fast-forward 13 years, and here I am sitting at work doing the exact opposite.
Practicing the new signature.
I’ve reworked “Claire Monahan” in several different styles. One of the strangest things about this future new last name is that I will no longer end in an “i.” Nothing to dot, nothing to flip, just an “n” that drifts off. How do I finish a signature with this? Continue reading