Dear Nico: Month 4

Dear Nico:

if last month was all about your awareness of your own body, this month has been all about how you can use it. you’ve gone from staring at your hands for hours to grabbing at objects and exploring their textures. your feet are interesting to you as well, your foot fetish still in full swing, as you stomp them against my body, kick them in the bath and worm them into my hands.

as your dutiful servant, i know now to cup your feet and rub your toes during each nursing session, which seems to please you until you get bored and decide to walk your feet up my arm and kick me in the face. you have been treating me like a piece of furniture, one you need to be in constant contact with, draping your arms and legs over me as though i were an armchair.

your affection is really skyrocketing now, no doubt encouraged by my own affection, which is near smothering levels. you like holding hands and receiving kisses and burrowing into cuddles and every other form of touch i lavish you with.

every morning, when your father gets you from your crib and brings you into our bed, you splay your arms out wide until you are touching both of us before displaying your best gummy grin. we comply by moving even closer toward you so we may alternate planting kisses on your cheek. you just lie there giggling. it's my favorite part of the day. 

you’ve also been getting more adept at letting us know just what you need, so we may do a better job at serving you, our child king. whether it’s your soft whimpering when i put my boob away too soon, the shifting of your weight when you’d like to get closer to something or the screams of despair when you are strapped into your car seat too long or being fed by bottle, you are very vocal about making your feelings and preferences known.

the bright side of this is that it’s usually easy to stop your crying. i can stop it the fastest by simply picking you up, often from the arms of another family member who is holding you as you cry, causing them minor heartache that they couldn’t soothe you while giving me a secret thrill that i’m the only one who can. 

 

you’ve also taken to hanging upside down, causing me to nickname you “batboy.” the head rush you get from this has become your new favorite drug, an obsession you pursue several times a day by whining while trying to launch yourself off my chest. this is my cue to lay your body flat across my lap and let your arms and head dangle.

a few times, i even stood up and held you upside down by your feet and waist, drawing squeals of approval. then i went to my laptop and googled “is it safe to dangle a baby upside down?” the responses were mixed, but because i haven’t seen any visible signs of brain damage yet, i think it was a safe bet.

besides remarking on your big owl eyes, when people see you, they often marvel at the fact that you are not a blubbering mess of baby tears and frustration. and, indeed, you remain relatively calm in a room full of people, showing much more interest in observing them than playing with your toys, which bore you within seconds.

but with people, you become Mr. Observant, another new nickname of yours -- in addition to marshmallow, big head, handsome prince and gordito -- that lets me know i need to quit swearing and yelling at the dogs. you can stare at people for hours, your giant peepers registering a look of constant curiosity and awe.

this is when i wish most that you could tell me what you are thinking and how you are finding the strange actions of your new tribespeople, how they compare with those found in the place from which you came, if you miss that place and those people or are happy with where you landed.

 

instead, you’ll just blink those owl eyes, leaning in closer toward the things you really want to observe (usually food or the dogs). i lean into you plenty as well, often to just to smell you, my darling drug of choice, lighting up the pleasure centers of my brain as though you were a pile of Colombian cocaine.

 

i suppose this is the crux of motherhood, this addiction i have to you and your smell, powered by hormones and Darwinism, and already making me bemoan the fact that you are changing too fast despite being just four months old.

i’ve heard enough people tell me to “enjoy it because it goes by so fast,” and i’ve wanted to stab those people every single time, but i want you to know that i am enjoying this early, precious time together when your big, glorious eyes regard me and the rest of the world with wonder and awe. hopefully, you can see that my eyes regard you the same way.