Going in her Car Seat
Yesterday night, with an hour and a half still left until bed, little Ess was getting antsy in the Björn, acting like she was trying to escape. So, we took her up to the warm and cozy upstairs and just set her on our bed, with only one thing in front of her, her pacifier. Now, she has no particular affinity for sucking on any pacifier for longer than 10 seconds, employing a cute but slightly frustrating tongue thrust to pop it out of her mouth. But, she does like to hold it and understand it, with its purple flange and contrasting sides, one a soft silicone and the other a hard plastic.
It has been five years since I went flying off my bike. Five years. 60 months. I still wear the Patagonia jacket I was wearing when that accident happened; wore it today, in fact. That’s a testament to Patagonia’s quality, I guess. I still don’t like most of their color schemes for their stuff, which explains why my jacket from them is all black. But like I said, great stuff.
Mykala and I participate in what we call “awards season” during the dark days of late mid-winter where on Sunday nights there are Hollywood and entertainment industry awards shows. It would be more aptly called “have some fun toaster-oven food and watch parts of a live event while reading.” The latter description has been accurate for a few years. This year, however, was quite a bit different. The Grammy Awards were on, Ess was in her Björn, and we had finished up “Grammy Pancakes” (see, gold records look like pancakes!). Poor little girl had just blown out a diaper and gotten a bath, and was looking adorable in her fresh, clean jammies. Mykala tuned into what can only be called a “momstinct” or a premonition, and was cuddling Ess particularly closely when our little baby girl started making sounds we hadn’t heard her make before.
Hi Ess,
As I type this, things of yours are strewn about the floor: Isabella bunny, Sophie the giraffe, Skinny Dog your Christmas present. There’s a kitchen tongs on the living room floor and a geodesic ball perched on your circle desk. There’s Pat the bunny sitting by the piano and a few blankets about there as well. The point is, it looks like a baby-shaped tornado just tore through our first floor. And let me tell you, your dad abhors a mess. I can’t stand disorder and your mom and I just spent a ton of time straightening up your nursery. But get this: I’d feel less happy, less full and fulfilled if you weren’t upstairs napping right now, if your toys weren’t scattered underfoot. This mess, I like. You see, these things are in disarray, but what they signify is far more important: they remind me of you. They remind me of your smiling, six-month-old face. They remind me of the reverence with which you hold things in front of your face, and the way that reverence quickly turns to frenetic, kinetic energy. You just fascinate your mom and dad, little one. And even though you aren’t sleeping well at all at night, and even though your mom is spending 25 hours a day looking after you, even though it’s overwhelming, you are absolutely amazing. We’ll never forget this time.
A few nights ago, I was upstairs taking care of a few chores when I heard Mykala laughing in our room. Then, I heard our Essie giggling right along with her! It’s pretty uncommon for Ess to laugh in the first place, much less for both her and her mom to be sharing a joke. It turns out that while lying on her side and eating her milk dinner, Ess managed to take off her sock, and then proceeded to wave it for the entirety of her meal. Then, when she was done eating, the sock went right into her mouth. This got her mom laughing, and Ess responded in kind. That’s some kind of joy, walking into a room where your wife and child are both laughing uproariously. I am so very lucky.
I noticed this great light coming in and was taking a few pictures of Ess, and then her mama came up behind me and started singing. This is her reaction.
We were everywhere we could go this Christmas. I was up at 5am on Christmas Eve to go exercise before I worked until noon, at which point I came home to see Essie and Mykala dressed up, Essie’s bottom half looked like a candy cane and Mykala was resplendent* of course. Then it was off to my parent’s for some home-made Dr. Fuhrman lasagna and cookies and presents. Essie opened first, her little hands grabbing each piece of tissue paper. I love to see her touch, feel, grasp things and she has suddenly become so skillful at grabbing everything. The presents were exhausting for her, though, and she needed a nap. This was a theme throughout our presents opening—frequent breaks!
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