Many years from now, people not much older than you, will have stories about how they survived The Great San Diego Fire. The magic of being a baby is that you are blessed with having no awareness, and therefore no fear, of the fire that raced through our county just three weeks, ago. While the fire never got closer to us than seven miles, it did come pretty close to Grandma Precious and Grandpa Mel. Luckily, we all came out safe and never had to evacuate. I’m hoping that this will be the worse fire in your lifetime, but my instincts tell me that isn’t true.
This month has been a hard one for Momma for many reasons that don’t have much to do with you. I’ve been a little sad about what happened to me after you were born. The physical pain has eased, like I asked it to, but it isn’t gone. But as the physical pain has subsided, some of the emotional pain has had room to creep in.
Not to mention that of all the traits I hope you don’t get from me, my desire for perfection has also snuck in, and I have felt bad about all the things I think I should be doing with you that I don’t have the energy for. I also had my first freelance project due this month and it was very hard getting across the finish line. It’s now done and billed, and for the first time in two years Momma will generate some income for this family.
A few days ago, Daddy and I celebrated our Tenth Wedding Anniversary. we’re postponing any big celebrations for a little while because finances are a little tight and I have trouble leaving you for more than one night. I wrote a lot about my love for Daddy on this site to commemorate the event, but the only person I really hope reads it some day is you. Lyra, all girls grow up and marry their Daddies. I can only tell you, you’d be so lucky if you did. We know the best gift we can give you is a strong and happy marriage that makes you feel safe and secure in this world. It’s a gift I work to give you, each and every day.
Here are the five things I want to hold on to from this month:
- If last month was about the discovery of your hands, this month was about learning to use them. One day, you were all feet and legs—pushing, kicking and picking things up with your toes. The next, you are opening and closing your hands, grabbing at toys, and swatting the shapes on your play gym with delight.
- To escape the thick smoke at their house, Samuel and his parents come stay with us for a few days. We put the two of you on the floor next to each other. You immediately turn on your side and wrap your legs around his. He grabs your hand and you return the favor. I capture this moment on film.
- Your first night away from us at Grandma Precious’s house. She calls me on the phone and I hear you giggling for the first time in the background. My heart breaks that I’m not there to witness this, as I have been for most everything else. It’s a week before you make that delightful sound, again. Now you do it all the time.
- Halloween night, Auntie Jen gives you a Sour Apple Blow Pop. You hold it with both hands and lick it repeatedly, making a loud slurping sound. You look just like a little mouse and your eyes are giant with surprise at this treat.
- What had been a wild flailing that I never quite understood, becomes a refined movement this month. I cradle you in my left arm and feed you your bottle. You reach up press the palm of your hand to my chin. You hold it there as long as I hold you. You do this every time I hold you, now. Sometimes I cry.