I really cannot believe it has already been one year. I know every parent says that, but it does seem like just moments ago I had my hand on my belly, feeling your kicks and talking to you about the fun we would have some day.
You arrived on November 1st, just 30 minutes after we made it to the hospital. I like to think that hauling your sister around for her first walkable Halloween had something to do with it.
While I could write a book about your first 365 days, I think you’ll find more value in the thank you’s and I’m sorry’s I owe you, so far. First, the thank you’s for some of the beautiful things that make you, you.
Thank you for your contagious laugh– Somehow you skipped that baby belly laugh and went straight to the giggle/squeal “I-can’t-even-take-this!” kind of laugh. It suits your overall fun-loving personality and great sense of humor. Still, tickling you almost feels cheap because even though you seem to love it, I think I love it a little bit more.
Thank you for your patience– You must have been prepared for Shay because from the moment you arrived you have been the ideal baby sister. You waited patiently as we rescued Shay from her ascent up the changing table and while we rushed through potty emergencies. You put up with countless toy “trades” and slightly aggressive sister hugs, and even withstood Ruby licks and tail wags. Your ability to keep your cool is astounding.
Thank you for your dedication– I knew we were going to be close when you refused the bottle and when you insisted on getting up to visit with me in the middle of the night, but I never expected this level of devotion. Your sister is a Daddy’s girl, so maybe you’re just trying to be fair. Either way, I appreciate the shout outs… and the will power that will serve you well throughout your life.
And now, my darling Quinn Alice, I want to say sorry for the generally acceptable but no less important ways that we have shorted you this year.
I’m sorry I didn’t take as many pictures of you as we did of your sister. It’s not because I didn’t think you were as cute, or because I just didn’t feel like it. Unfortunately I often didn’t have the extra hand….plus my phone memory is usually full so that camera is typically useless.
I’m sorry I didn’t keep a journal of your milestone accomplishments and general descriptions of you and your experiences. I did text Meema and BeeBee all major achievements, and I talk about you all the time, so there is some sort of documentation. And for the record, I do have a journal ready to go for your second year.
I’m sorry you’ve had to “cry it out” a little more than you’d like. Despite your extensive patience, sometimes I just can’t do what you want me to. Also, the aforementioned dedication, while admirable, was getting in the way of our sleep. As much as I loved those cuddles, we’re all much better off sleeping through the night (I’m confident even you would say the short-lived crying is more than worth it).
So, my favorite second daughter, I hope you know just how much I love you. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about how lucky I am to have you- how much more enriched my life is because I get to be your mom. If this fraction of my life is this good, I can only dream of the wonders the future holds for us both.
P.S. Remember, fewer pictures means we were busy having fun; the lack of a journal means we were spending more time in-person, doing; and learning to soothe yourself is the key to being resilient, which you most certainly are.
Photos may not be used without permission.
Latest posts by Emily Perillo (see all)
- Thirty-Five Years Old and I Still Depend on my Mom for… - March 7, 2017
- Peace Out 2016 - December 15, 2016
- Remembering with Love - December 14, 2016