Dear little Marion,
Today you are one month old! What a big girl you’re getting to be! You’re so much more aware now, that’s been your biggest change this week. Yesterday, your Daddy and I were talking about how the first week you were home, how it was so hard for you to follow us with your eyes and what a chore it was to turn your head. Now, it’s almost effortless. Although I have to say, I can see the path my life is going to take being laid already. Daddy is by far your favorite thing to follow and look at! You know his steps and when he walks into a room, you start to look for him. But Momma, oh no, you don’t care about me (unless I’m bringing you food!) You also noticed the dogs this week and they noticed you. Well, one of them. Gracie knows you’re a rivalry for Daddy’s heart, so you both ignore each other. Nanuq you find to be most interesting though – especially when he licks your toes!
I’m sad to say that you’re celebrating your one-month-birthday with a cold though. And I feel even worse because I gave it to you. It doesn’t seem to be bothering you too much. I’ll feel a lot better when you can cough easier though! Right now, coughing is a lot like choking and good lord, that gives me a heart attack. You just smile and kind of laugh when it’s over.
I found a quote this week that really speaks to me. “My best revenge against all the dishonesty and hatred in the world, it seems to me, will be to raise right up through the middle of it these honest and loving children.” – Barbara Kingsolver. Daddy and I have spent a lot of time this week talking about “when you grow up” – we wonder what kind of activities you’ll be in to, if you’ll like the things we like, what your favorite foods will be, and when you’ll change from thinking you’ve got cool parents to being ashamed to be seen in public with us. I don’t really care if you like running like your dad or if you’ll be a coach potato like your mom. I hope you like knitting, but it’s okay if you don’t. And maybe you’ll only eat macaroni and cheese and chicken fingers for three years, and we’ll learn to live with that as well. I just hope and pray that you’ll be loving and kind and compassionate. That you’ll be truthful and ethical and charitable. I hope that you’ll just be the best of us, and none of the bad. I hope you’ll be the kind of girl that people meet and go “she must have really good parents.”
I love you so much little girl of mine!