0:7:1 Innocence

Dear Izabella,

One of the things I am deeply terrified about is you growing up. Most parents look forward to their babies learning new things and developing and crawling and talking and doing all sorts of stuff. Not me. Because to me, right now, you’re my perfect little baby girl.

Well, not really. This month we started you on solids and for the first couple of weeks it was fine, you cooperated and it was all fun and game. Until it wasn’t. Until you started showing your dismay when you don’t like the taste of something (you don’t like broccoli or parsnips). You’d purse your lips so tight. There is no way you’re letting the spoon in your mouth! You start flailing your arms and hands, dodge the spoon, turn your head away or spit the food out, then wipe it off your face and all over your cloths and make a total mess in the process. It was cute. Now it’s just extra laundry Daddy has to do. (Yes, your Daddy does your laundry.)

And it’s just so frustrating and disappointing because I put in so much effort to prepare the food for you. It is even a debacle to try get you to drink my expressed milk out of a bottle. We’ve been trying for weeks! Apparently, you’re Dad successfully got you to take a bottle today. You were starving and I wasn’t home so you just took to it. Yayyy! Progress! But it wasn’t easy.

I’m hoping to dear Lord this is not a sign of what’s to come. I’m not only terrified of your toddler years, I’m terrified of you being anything like me growing up. It was all downhill halfway through grade school, from when I was around ten I think. Although people with teenagers talk of the *FUN* it is to have tweens and teens… (Please note the sarcasm in that.) To say I am terrified of it is an understatement. I was a terrible teenager and gave my parents so much grief. If you turn out to be anything like me, then fuck, I’m in for one helluva ride!

So right now, I’m just really enjoying you being a 7-month-old who is not crawling or talking or causing too much trouble yet. I love it that when I cuddle you, you don’t really complain yet. I cuddle into you when you’re asleep. Yes, it’s not the other way around. I kinda smoosh my face into yours and hold you close. It gives me a sense of security. Which is an odd thing to feel considering you’re pretty much a little ball of innocence who is fully reliant on me.

When I feel inadequate, I take you in my arms and give you a big cuddle then all of a sudden everything feels ok. I can conquer anything with you, for you.

I’ve yet to ask if my own Mom felt this way about me when I was your age (I’m also the eldest child). I mean, it’s hard to believe she actually may totally have felt this way when I was little because I wouldn’t love me the way I love you now knowing everything I did to break my Mama’s heart growing up. It’s a scary thought that you may actually take from me and break my heart that way one day too. But apparently, that’s all a part of being a parent.

Shit. What did I get myself into?

Ah well. By the time you start reading this, I’m just hoping that it will give you some insight into how it is raising you. In real time. Because I am writing this as you grow. And I never knew what it was like for my parents. They weren’t like real people when I was growing up. It wasn’t until I was an adult did I see my parents as “just human”.

I’m just human. And I’m not perfect. And I want you to understand that. I will always want what’s best for you. And I will always protect you as best as I can. But please don’t be too hard on me. Eat your food. We work hard so you can have something decent to eat.

Sincerely,

Mama