A Painted House

Dear Edison: Month One

Posted on: January 6, 2011

Dear Edison,

A few days ago you turned one month old.  Ok, to be honest it was a week ago.  In stereotypic fashion I’m already behind in keeping up for my second born, traditions begun with the first child.   But to be fair everything in our life is running approximately 25% behind these days so don’t take it personally.  Adding you to our family has been a joyous, celebrated experience but as newborn babies are want to do, you’ve totally thrown a wrench into our well-oiled routines.  If we can manage to make it through the day with three-quarters of us dressed, clean, and fed I consider it a rousing success.  Unfortunately that means at any given point someone will be missing a key article of clothing (pants, it always seems to be pants), in dire need of sustenance, or sporting an unclean bum.  But at least I’ve yet to have to answer the door as the pantsless one, so again, I’ll chalk this month up in the success column.

In so many ways you’ve been a surprise to us, Edison.  I promise I won’t spend ALL of the next eighteen years of your life comparing you to your older brother, but permit me this paragraph.  You and your brother are thus far, as different as can be.  While he took only six hours to enter the world, you took twelve.  (Humph.)  He resembles your Dad’s side of the family and you look like mine.  And though he is uninterested in food in general, you seem to think your body will shrivel into nothingness if you don’t vigorously fill your tummy every two hours, if not before.  By the way, you better grow up to be a Snagless Pantyhose Inventor or something equally impressive that I can brag to all my friends about, because allowing you to ferociously attack some of the most sensitive parts of my body on an every-other-hour basis?  Ouchie.  Anyway.  Thankfully your differences fall to our advantage in the sleep department as you’re a much better sleeper than your brother was as an infant.  By this point with our first go-around I was a walking zombie with sticky-upy hair and dark circles under my eyes, while you, sweet Edison, have given me up to three hours in a row of sleep before you wake up to eat.  Way to make an early bit for the title of Favorite Son, my second born.  Well played.

One thing we do need to work on is learning to poop.  I know, you’re going to love me when you’re twelve and you read this and you find out I talked about poop right in the middle of this sappy, sentimental letter.  But it’s a big part of your life right now (come to think it of it I suppose it will be a big part of your life then, too), this whole pooping thing.  It seems filling your diaper is a learned skill just like anything else and you do your best learning in the wee hours of the morning.  You’re sleeping in a bassinet in your Dad’s and my room and we’ve come to expect that from about 5:00 a.m. on, we will hear you grunting and snorting in your sleep as you work out your internal organs.  And you’re LOUD.  It’s like sleeping in the room with a congested boar.  And then when you finally let loose….well, it’s impressive.  We had a minor earthquake in Indiana last week and when it happened you were laying next to me in bed.  I kid you not, I honestly thought the bed shaking was just you forcefully filling your diaper again.   If you retain that skill it will make you intensely popular when you’re twelve.

 Your birthday fell right before the holiday season so we’ve enjoyed having lots of family around for the first few weeks of your life.  This basically means you’ve been held and cuddled and cooed over for eighty percent of your existence in this world.  Not that much would change if your grandparents, aunts and uncles hadn’t been around; your ridiculously bright eyes and the sheer length of your eyelashes are enough to charm anyone into touching you.  And as it’s winter (read: Germ-a-Polluza) I’ve had my work cut out for me in keeping you from contracting the bubonic plague from everyone who asks to hold you.  You doctor is wonderful but I don’t want to have to explain to her how you caught Dengue Fever from the Target checkout lady.  So to keep you healthy we’ve spent most of the past month at home, watching the world outside our living room windows slowly turn white.

And I can’t say that I mind our month of isolation.  It was wonderful having our family around to celebrate Thanksgiving, your safe arrival being high on our list of things for which we’re grateful, but I’ve also enjoyed our time as just a new family of four.  I’ve been pleasantly surprised how easily you’ve slipped right into our lives, Edison.  I was so nervous that bringing a second baby home would be more responsibility than I could manage, more change than your brother could handle, and more of a time commitment than your Daddy could provide.  But when I look back at the months leading up to your arrival and I can’t believe a) how much time there was in my day, b) what a luxury it was to sleep uninterrupted, and c) just how much we needed you to complete what was missing in our family.   When your big brother was born I spent the first month of his life worrying about his schedule and whether he was doing what he was supposed to be doing when he was supposed to be doing it.  With you, I’ve simply enjoyed having you here.  I figure we messed up enough things with him and he’s still alive, happy, and chattering ninety-four words per minute, so maybe this time I shouldn’t worry so much and just go with it.  And it’s been a wonderful first month (ok fine, five weeks) of cuddling you close, watching you learn to smile, remembering just how good newborn babies smell, and discovering what it means to be a family of four.  We’re so, so glad you’re here.

Love, Mama

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5 Responses to "Dear Edison: Month One"

Love the letter! Perfect combination of sweet and hilarious. Congrats on the new blog! WordPress rocks!

Thanks, Marla! Good to see a familiar “face” here – it feels a bit lonely and unfamiliar right now. Any tips you have about how to work this thing would be great. 🙂

Sure enjoy your posts. Your letters always make me tear up as they are so precious. Anxious to see you guys!!!! Praying your dad is continuing to improve

Hope everyone is staying healty

AW. I love this. Especially the last paragraph! Everything you wrote there are all the things I was so excited that you were going to get to experience and now you are and it’s wonderful and fun…and I’m so happy that you have Edison! 🙂

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