Letters to Our Daughters

(This blog post is part of a blog circle, after you are finished reading click the link at the bottom to read another ‘Letters to Our Daughters’)

Dear Cecilia,

You stopped sitting still. No longer do you want to sit and cuddle, you are too busy. The world is your playground, everyday you are discovering. Everything is new, everything must be touched, explored, tasted and stared at until it makes sense.

In some ways, I mourn my baby that is disappearing and morphing into a toddler. I also welcome this funny toddler, with a sense of humour, with a presence that can be heard throughout the household. You like your routines, you prefer your bed, to any other place to rest your head. You listen for the sound of your Daddy every afternoon.

As busy as you are you, you also take your time. There is no rush for you to walk, you are happy in your playpen with your pile of toys, that your brothers and sister give you. You seem to laugh at us when we ask if you are going to step on your own. Your big blue eyes tell us you are in no hurry. You will venture on those chubby legs when you feel the time is right.

When I photograph you, you like to remind me that you are no longer a little baby…you are my big girl who was just put on the floor…and you crawl away and laugh at your crazy mother! Taking pictures of you now requires skill and patience but I have so much practice from you brothers and sisters and you do not know all my tricks yet.

After bath time, in your fuzzy jammies, drinking your bottle of milk I find my baby again. Here, you cuddle close to me. Here, you you are still. In these quiet moments I stare at your capable little fingers. Chubby and soft as satin. Round with little dents and dimples. This evening those little fingers discovered with Daddy the wonders of a light switch. To us older folk the light switch is nothing to stare at but to you it was magic! You made light and took it away. As you finishes those last drops of milk, your eyelashes are fluttering because you are tired from todays adventures.

Our bedtime ritual is always the same, tucking the quilt around you, making sure Sock Monkey and Kitty are in either arm, a binkie in your mouth, the soft lulling sounds of the fan and the twinkling music from your mobile.

As you drift to sleep, and for a few short hours will be quiet and still. While the house is quiet I write this letter to you, my little daughter.  I know the silence  will not last long because tomorrow will bring another adventure.

.

To read another blog post from this series, click here to read Heather Meyer’s Letters to our Daughter.