Dear Harper — Month Four

Dear Harper,

This month started with what we assume was another growth spurt. You only wanted to be carried around and would cry and cry if we had the audacity to put you down. Good thing we have a sling; otherwise, your daddy and I would've had to invest in diapers for ourselves. And speaking of diapers, with every growth spurt comes an increase in your net pooping time. Are you asking yourself why I always insist on mentioning your crapping habits in these letters? I wish I could give you an answer to that.

During the first couple of weeks of this month, we got the feeling that there was just so much you wanted to do (roll over, grab things accurately, buy a car and drive the hell away from your parents), but you just couldn't. You did manage to roll over for the first time on April 2, and we were so delighted that we damn near peed ourselves. But then we realized that you were unable to roll back, and there you were, stuck on your stomach and crying. Like a turtle, but not. So we'd ease you back onto your back, which made you incredibly angry, causing you to go from crying to screaming. You'd also gotten into the hideous habit of rolling at night, which caused me to wedge you into place with a body pillow. We weren't sure how to help you out. On the one hand, we knew you had to practice this rolling business; as your dad said to cheer you on: Come on, Harper! Frustration is your motor! On the other hand, how much frustration should we allow you to take before we turn into Béla Károlyi?



Anyway, the rolling and crying struck me as so weird that I asked our pediatrician about it at your check up. He said that you were too young to be rolling, and that you weren't doing it on purpose. And just like that, you'd stopped, for one whole week. Now you're back at it again, and with the help of a mirror (Thanks, Sam!) and a pacifier, you don't wig out immediately when you roll onto your stomach. We're still working on the rollin back, though.

You got your first round of vaccinations this month, too. This is something I've been worrying about since the day you were born, so you can imagine how I thought things were going to turn out. I was mostly concerned about the shot hurting you and the possibility of your reacting to the vaccines. Let me just say here that you have not been sick once, and I'm not sure I would know how to take your temperature if I had to. Because things were taking so long, I decided to nurse you while waiting. Mid-drink, the assistant came in to give you the shot. And you were so pissed off about your beloved boobie being taken away from you that you did not even notice the needle going into your chubby little butt. And you had absolutely no reaction, either. Relief is really the best feeling in the whole world.

Oh, the boobies. It'll be time to slowly start you on solids at the end of June, and I'm not sure how that's going to go over, since it essentially means less and less boobie time for you. If my chest ever had a fan club, then you are definitely the president. You get so excited when you see me getting the nursing pillow situated that you usually end up in tears because I can't get things in place and in your mouth fast enough. Kind of reminds me of when I was a kid; I would get so excited that the ice-cream truck was coming that I would cry because I was afraid I wouldn't get there in time. Don't worry, Harper. The boobie truck is not going to drive off without you. Because mommy would literally explode and die otherwise.

You are also fascinated by any and all pictures of animals, be they in books, on cups or on shirts. You seem quite enamored with the goofy-eyed dog on my favorite coffee mug, as well as with the very classy cat wearing a cowboy hat on my favorite T-shirt. You also have figured out that Lilly is a dog and that dogs are for petting. Lilly takes it all with silent suffering. We assumed (wrongly) that this would be a great time to take you to the zoo. You slept through the first half, cried through the second. I had to nurse you behind the bat house, and we tried to make people think we'd stolen you from the monkey cage.



You survived your first long car ride and wedding, too. Your timing is great; as the bride got to the altar, you started to cry. And at the reception? You found the father of the bride's speech so moving that you also had to wail in the middle of it. You spent the rest of the night sleeping in the sling, and everyone told me what a good little baby you are.



Getting you ready for bed each evening seems to call for a bit of singing, and this is where my sullen early teenage years spent listening to oldies on KEYN is finally paying off. You seem to like yourself a little Motown, and your current favorites include My Girl and Baby Love. Well, I don't know if you really like those songs; they just happen to be the ones I know the words to. Another oft-sung song is Big Girls Don't Cry, but I know like 10 words total to that one. You haven't seemed to notice yet, though.

I could go on and on here. Every single day with you is such a joy, it's damn near unbearable. What did we do with all that time on our hands before you came?

Love,
Mama

This month's song: My Girl by The Temptations
This month's nicknames: Baby Bear, Big Girl, Baby, Lovey Dovey, Sweetie Face