A Letter to Periwinkle at Three Months

Dear Periwinkle,

Today you are three months old. That's it? You seem so aware of your surroundings, so curious and thoughtful, you have to be older than that.

When I get you out of your crib in the morning, you greet me with an enormous smile, happy to greet the new day. I place you on the playmat where you entertain yourself for a good hour, staring at yourself in the mirror, laughing and cooing at your playmate. I wonder if you know that it's you. You seem to have entire conversations with yourself, sometimes forceful, sometimes questioning, sometimes laughing. Eventually you don't get the response you want and you start to cry. Then it's time for breakfast.

Today is our last day home together. There will be days off and weekends, but I'm going to miss getting to wake up everyday knowing we have a whole day together. You are changing so fast it makes me sad that I will miss any of it. I will pick you up at daycare one of these days and you will be rolling over, grabbing for objects, or even, eventually, talking. I hope they lie to me so that I get to be there for all your "firsts."

You are so close to being able to roll over from your stomach to your back. You can raise your head and chest and your legs. You look like Superman. Or Supergirl. You rock back and forth and seem to get halfway there. I know it will happen soon, but I know you get frustrated that you can't quite do it yet.

We can't swaddle you in a blanket anymore because you get out of it in about ten seconds. We've been using swaddling sleep sacks, but I know it's just a matter of time before you get your arms out of those, too, and then your swaddling days will be done. You are such a strong little girl.

Most nights when we put you to bed you smile up at me as I read to you and your brother. You seem to prefer the rhymes of Dr. Seuss to anything else, although You Are My I Love You is also a favorite. It's one of my favorites as well, as so much of it rings true.

You Are My I Love You
Maryann K Cusimano

I am your parent you are my child
I am your quiet place, you are my wild
I am your calm face, you are my giggle
I am your wait, you are my wiggle
I am your audience, you are my clown
I am your London Bridge, you are my falling down
I am your carrot sticks, you are my licorice
I am your dandelion, you are my first wish
I am your water wings, you are my deep
I am your open arms, you are my running leap
I am your way home, you are my new path
I am your dry towel, you are my wet bath
I am your dinner you are my chocolate cake
I am your bedtime, you are my wide awake
I am your finish line, you are my race
I am your praying hands, you are my saving grace
I am your favorite book, you are my new lines
I am your nightlight, you are my sunshine
I am your lullaby, you are my peek-a-boo
I am your kiss goodnight, you are my I love you

It gets me every time.

I love you,
Mama

Your eyelashes are still envy-worthy

Who's that in the mirror?

Tummy time!

Stormpooper. Nerd in training.