Dear Isabella,
A few days ago you turned eight months old. I try to get these letters to you posted on the 24th of each month, but this has been a challenging month to say the least. As I write this, you are tucked in and asleep, finally, and I decided to steal a few moments, on this national day of thanks, to celebrate you.
There is so much to be grateful for, a few standouts this month include:
* the naming of our new president, something we will definitely talk about when you are older
* that your beautiful and loving Auntie Boho finally brought home her amazing son, Cedar. I hope you two will be great friends one day.
* getting to spend some quality time with both sets of your maternal grandparents and a Skype conversation with the de la Rosa's where you met your cousins Julia and Daniel. You were smitten.
You caught your first cold this month while we were on vacation with Grandma and Grandpa Manning and Aunt Kaitlyn. That was fun. You were so filled with phlegm that it seemed like I was up with you every 15 minutes at night trying to suck it all out of your nose. Of course in doing so, I became sick a couple days later. So if one of us wasn't awake because we couldn't breathe, the other was.
While I complained and whined about being phlegmy, you were so good. Even though we all knew you weren't feeling well, you still managed to smile and stay in good spirits. You are kind of amazing that way.
It's wild to witness you continue to discover your world and the effect you have on your environment. Everything to you is brand new and you want to reach out with gusto and grab it all, and then put it in your mouth. For the past eight months, you have pretty much allowed your father and I to put you someplace where you would stay, dress you, put a bib on you, etc. without any fuss. In the last couple of weeks, however, you have definitely discovered your own free will and non-verbal use of NO.
This has become increasingly apparent during mealtimes and in the last two days when you and I caught another cold. This one even suckier than the last. With these two colds, you don't want anyone even near your nose to relieve the phlegm, and it breaks my heart because when we drain your sinuses you sound as if we are torturing you in some way, yet you always feel better afterward.
During meals, you have decided you just don't want to wear a bib anymore and you don't see any reason why you must endure having it on for even one more second.
These two things prompted your father to have a little discussion with you which I will paraphrase here by saying, "There will be times where you will not like the decisions we make for you as parents, but all you need to remember is that even when we do something you don't like, we really are doing it for your own good."
Also know that we will do our very best to never say things like, because we said so. Your father and I both agree that is not a good enough answer to the question, "Why?" So know that we will do our best to explain to you why we are making the decisions we are so you will know and there will be no confusion.
You need a bib when you eat so the food that misses your mouth (which isn't much at all, you love food and want it all in your mouth) has someplace to go other than all over your clothes so you can keep your outfit clean and when you are sick, we will do what we can to make you as comfortable as possible so you can breathe easier. This includes what we refer to as "sucking out your boogies". No, it's not fun for you, but it's effective.
You are really starting to notice children as well. Wherever we go, you smile at everyone, and I mean everyone. You make 25 new friends whenever we leave the house it seems. However, you become positively giddy when you see a child with their parents. You kick your legs and squeal and have even reached out for a few once or twice. I don't know if many babies do this, but it makes me think you will have no problem making friends in the future.
Something else that you started this month, that has me entertained, is that you have adopted my hair as your security blanket when you go to sleep at night. At bedtime, we lay tummy to tummy and you reach your hands up into my hair and comb your fingers through it until you start to relax and drift off to sleep. This, along with stroking your cheek, are the two things that mommy does that will instantly calm you down right now and something about it just melts my heart so. I am so very grateful for the special bond you and I share.
Which brings me to today. Thanksgiving. A day set aside for counting our blessings. Oh, and there is food involved too. Your first Thanksgiving was a quiet one. Unfortunately we were unable to travel to be with family since you and I are both sick and you are still too young to enjoy things like pumpkin pie. We spent the morning in Chinatown so mama could get some soup to clear her head and then you and I took a walk through the hills while your daddy roasted a chicken with some veggies for our small Thanksgiving dinner. You fell asleep while we ate and now I am about to join you both in peaceful slumber.
Your father and I carry many wonderful memories of Thanksgivings that we have shared through the years but not one compares to having you, and all the goodness that you are, here with us on your first Thanksgiving. Not one. You are so loved, angel. Happy first Thanksgiving.
Love,
Mama
