You have grown tremendously in the past eight weeks. At your two-month appointment with the doctor you weighed in at ten and a half pounds; ten and a half pounds of pure muscle and spunk. In the past week you have outgrown your newborn clothes and I have been digging in your drawers for larger sizes. It is very bittersweet to put away those tiny little outfits. You are no longer the little bundle we brought home from the hospital, but a baby who moves about and interacts with your surroundings rather than observing passively.
You are all things social. You love to be out and about seeing the world. You fight sleep like it’s your job, only falling asleep during the day if you are attached to me, and even then you usually fall asleep in my arms only to wake with a startle five minutes later with a look on your face that says, “I’m sorry, I must have shut my eyes for a minute. Did you miss me?” You often sleep with one eye open to ensure that I never set you down. As a result, I spend most of my day holding you. Sometimes I wish I could have just one moment to myself, but I know that you need to be close. I know that in a blink of the eye you will be grown and I will look back at these moments with the fondest of memories. These moments are pure bliss.
At our parent and baby class on Mondays you are all eyes. You love to watch the other babies (most of whom are twice your age and size) play delicately on the mat. You have no problem holding the rattle up and rolling around, showing off your brute strength. The other babies hold weight on their legs, but you look like you’re moments away from taking your first independent step. Nothing seems to faze you. As your grandpa says – you are one tough cookie.
Our favorite time of day comes when daddy returns from a long day at work. He jumps in the shower and we sit in the bathroom and discuss his day. I undress you and hand you in. You love the shower. You put your face right into the stream of water. Daddy cleans you up and hands you back for an oil massage, a clean diaper and pajamas. You coo and ahh, charming us as we get you ready for slumber.
Yesterday your health insurance card came in the mail and I looked at that big, beautiful name spelled out – Sonia P. Weliwitigoda – and I had a moment. You are your own person. You have a name that you will take with you throughout your life. I know that you will make your name proud.