#25: A Quarter of a Year with G

Dear Genevieve, 

You have been with us for three months, and already it is hard to remember life without you here. I am amazed by how independent and curious you are already. You love facing outward while rocking or when we carry you. But when you're having a hard day, you still love to tree frog sleep on my chest (even if you fight it at first). You love looking around and moving about the house; your chief responsibility is to spot the fan in each room. You don't show too much interest in your puppy dogs yet, but Burlioz is always close by and Heidi comes in to check on you and loves licking your head and smelling your diaper.

We spend most of our time right now at home and you definitely don't seem to mind. We read, sing, and play. You especially enjoy rhyming books and when we sing You'll be in My Heart, by Phil Collins. A song I sang in an elementary school talent show and a soundtrack I can't wait to experience with you. You don't seem to care about rolling yet or grabbing rattles. Instead you love to hang out and look out whether you're on your back or tummy. When I show you Foxy you get so excited and promptly place her in your mouth. You are so observant and love your mobiles on your play gyms and batting the items with your hands and feet. We joke that boxing or speed bag work may be in your future. 

You are so vocal and expressive. You and I definitely share these traits. You love having conversations. I ask you a question and wait for you to respond. When you do, I respond back and your eyes get so big and light up so bright. You seem to already be learning that your voice is powerful and people are listening to what you have to contribute. Your adorable little tongue still protrudes quite often, but it seems to be hanging out inside your mouth a bit more these days. You are liking a paci more and more to fall asleep, but you are terrible at holding it in yourself. You smile often, and are almost always kicking those feet and moving your arms about. You are a perfect mingling of chill and active, a dichotomy you share with your papa.  

When I think about the status of the world at this point in time it feels heavy. Yet somehow you being here makes it almost impossible to be bogged down with pessimism. Like Professor Dumbledore said in a book I cannot wait to read with you 'Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.' There is always something we can align to that is a source of light, I hope you always seek to find it. While we are amidst a pandemic, at a political stalemate in this country, and coping with climate disruption there are still positives to find. Throughout history there has been struggle, disruption, and disagreement. It is sometimes easy to think right now is the worst it has been because the history isn't ironed out and written down neatly in a book. Remember to hold perspective, to always do your best, and to seek out the good. Remember that each person, who believes similarly to or dissimilarly to you contributes something of value (even if it isn't easily discernible right away). 

There has truly been so much joy in these past three months with you. Watching you grow has brought so much happiness to our lives. When you were a newborn you hardly opened your eyes. Now they are open and round and seeking to make sense of the ever expanding world around you (and everything in it). You raise your eyebrows like Jack Nicholson and I don't think there is anything that makes your dad or me laugh harder. You are filling out, (slowly) growing your hair, and developing more of who you are meant to be. This morning while I journaled I thought about writing you another poem to include in this entry. When I thought about what kind of poem I wanted to write, quite quickly I realized a haiku is perfect to capture the essence of three-month-old you: little and impactful. 

From the smallest Seed 
you've already grown greatly. 
Grow wild, true, and you. 

With all my love, 
Mama