Monthly Maly Letter: Month 11

Dear Maly,

You turned 11-months-old today. Despite my efforts, I can’t seem to stop time. It’s seems like just yestereday you turned 10-months-old. In another month, you’ll be a year old. I’m really good with math like that. When you experience something in life that is known as “algebra”, we’ll take a family vacation.

As I write this, you are in your crib in your room, crying. Your Mom is out with her friends for their monthly girls night out. You and I played, you ate dinner, I bathed you, brushed your hair and put you down after walking around the house with you in my arms – just like when you were a newborn and I would walk you around the house and talk to you so you would fall asleep. It brought back fond memories holding you with my left arm and using my right had to cup the side of your head while playing with your hair with my thumb. You seemed tired, so I put you down in your crib and, with super hero gusto, bolted for the door and closed it behind me before you noticed I was gone. It seemed like you would fall asleep immediately but you stirred a few minutes later. I think you miss your Mom.

You’re becoming such a little person now. You easily feed yourself and you like everything that we give you to eat. You’re really starting to interact and talk to us now. You’re such a smart little girl, too. You know what the ceiling fan is, you know what the light is, you know what Mom’s and my nose and eyes are, you know what kitties are as well.

You also know that I get mad when you hit me in the face. I don’t think you understand what “mad” is, but rather, you know hitting in the face gets a reaction so apparenty that’s fun to you. We’re working on this hitting thing. I told you that I was a second degree blackbelt but that didn’t seem to phase you. When you’re able to stand more than ten seconds on your own, we can start sparring and I’ll show you what’s up. Seriously, it’s one of those things that babies do and your Mom and I have to figure out how to be good parents and fix your little slappy happy habit.

You caught a really nasty cold while on a road trip to Oklahoma with your Mom, John, Christine, Jack and Grayson. When your Mom and you came back home, you were horribly miserable. Your eyes were red and you could only open them 3/4 of the way. You were so weak and worn out. Your nose kept running and you had a nasty cough. I felt so bad for you and wished I could have fixed your hurts for you. Your Mom took you to the doctor where you were prescribed antibiotics and ear drops because the doctor thought you had an ear infection.

Your Mom and you took the prescription in to the pharmacy and went home. I came home from work to see you sad and sick. I went to the pharmacy to pick up your medicine. While waiting in line, I fought back tears. I hated that you were sick. I hated that my little girl was feeling so bad and there was nothing that I could do to fix it. I didn’t like thinking that we were going to have to give you antibiotics after we’ve been so good about feeding you the right foods and were vigilent in not giving you anything synthetic.

You’re feeling 100% better now and I’m so happy to have my little girl back to normal. You’re spunky and excited about everything again and EVERYTHING that you point to is a “Doh, doh, doh!!!” You’re too cute.

Your hair is getting longer and longer and it’s so beautiful. I’m jealous. Believe me when I tell you that I once had hair. Your hair is such a beautiful golden blonde. I love to play with it while your distracted playing with your toys. I always thought I’d shave a mohawk on my child’s head because I’m weird like that, but now I would never dream of doing anything with your hair. It’s so gorgeous and I can’t wait until it gets even longer so your Mom can laugh at me because I wholeheartedly tried to put your hair into pigtails but end up with a mash of hair above your forehead and another behind your right ear.

I can’t believe that in one month you’ll be a year old. In twenty years, you’ll still be my little girl. I love you so much and never thought that it was humanly possible to cherish someone other than your Mom as much. I’m so proud that you’re from such a loving family. I’m so proud of you.

I love you so much. My chest swells when I look at you and hear your giggle. I’m so thankful for you and I promise that I will do everything that I can do to make you giggle, keep you from getting sick or feeling hurt and teach you to love the way that I love you.

I love you, Sugar.



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