Letter to Little E

What’s been happening lately? Not a lot in terms of writing; inner beardy writer has been pulling his beard out at my lack of commitment. But I find it hard to care when Little E is doing adorable things like repeating Da da da da da da ba ba ba ba ba over and over and being dressed up like an Elf for Christmas (not that she has any control over that).

She’s changing so quickly now and I feel the need to focus on her, in case I miss something. I’ve decided to use my writing today to write her a letter to mark her turning 9 months. The style of this letter is inspired by posts from my new favourite blog, Hurrah for Gin – hilarious accounts of what it’s like to be a modern parent (but don’t read her blog if you don’t like swearing or you lack a sense of humour about parenting)

Anyway – here it is!

You at nine months

Bubba B, you’re getting so big! I know it’s cliche to say but it’s because it’s so miraculous; just nine months ago you were “plucked” from my belly (plucked being a euphemism for cut out via c-section) and they had to wheel you off to the nicu straight away; we didn’t get to hold you until 24 hours later, and by then you were so covered in wires and tubes, I couldn’t connect you to the wriggly bump I’d been carrying.

And now you’re a wriggly almost-toddler, and I can’t imagine not knowing you. Every line of you is etched into my mind indelibly.

At the moment, your favourite thing is standing up – it’s so painfully adorable when you flap your tiny, imperious hands at us to pull yourself upright. It’s painfully audible when we don’t oblige you, requiring the swift application of rubber ducks or cuddly bunnies. It’s pretty hard to change your nappy when you’re trying to walk off down the hall. We’ve been trying to convince you to crawl too, but I can see from the way you arch your little eyebrows during tummy time, you’re not buying it. Why crawl when you could skip all that and go straight to walking?

You also like: turning the pages back and forth in your books, raw cheese, picking up the smallest speck of food with your newly discovered “pincer grip”, playing with the remote controls, generally grabbing EVERYTHING (especially the cats), seeing your Nana, pulling Daddy’s beard, having your teeth brushed, taking all the toys out of the toy box, and new discoveries.

It’s just as wondrous to me when you express dislike for something; the growling cry you do to signal ULTIMATE DISPLEASURE is as funny as it is alarming/upsetting. You don’t like nighttime car rides, napping, people getting too close before you’ve sussed them out (I feel your pain), and me putting back all the toys you’ve just emptied out. That’s all I can think of for ‘don’t likes’ because you’re generally such a happy baby who finds the joy in everything – I hope you hold on to that as you get older.

We are having such a wonderful time getting to know you and watching you grow up. If you can find a way, grow a little more slowly my lovely. It’s going by too fast for me.

Check out Hurrah for Gin (bearing in mind aforementioned warnings).

I’m off to do some Moore writing!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: