Little Bow Girl

Wife, Mama to Sophie Rose, Full Time Day Dreamer

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OOTD: Baby Hummingbird Dress from her Uncle Mark / Auntie Amelia and Butter-colored (yes that’s what its called!) Charlie Banana Diaper !

Hello my dear Sophie Rose !

You are 1 month 6 days old today .. and half to my delight and half to my nostalgic sadness, you are starting to look less and less like a newborn and more and more like a growing baby (yes, there is a distinction !)

You are brave – today you took your second vaccination, a Hepatitis B jab, and while you scrunched your face up and held your breath so long you turned purple, you only cried for five minutes !

You’re always hungry – On one hand, your insatiable appetite means you’re now 3.8kg and have finally reached the 50th percentile for your age ! This is a huge leap from the 2.4 kg you were when you came home from the hospital. On the other hand, Mommy is so stressed out about producing enough milk for you that she’s been a bit volatile (and very sensitive to your Papa insinuating that she’s not being a good enough cow). But thank you, for being such an easy baby about taking formula – although you make an icky face and always spit out the first few mouths, you eventually feel sorry for us and oblige us by finishing the bottle.

You hate dresses – Even though you look so pretty in them ! You get irritable every time we put a dress on you and much prefer your super soft and comfortable onesies from MotherCare. I don’t blame you, they really do look more comfy and don’t get stuck up your back, but Mommy can’t help herself.

You’re noisy – you coo, giggle, squeak and, of course, yell yourself hoarse everyday. Your Papa is a sucker for those mewling sounds you make when you want to be carried – an especially killer combination is when your lower lip trembles and your eyes grow wide – I can almost see his knees weakening.

You are a Poo Monster – So far, you have peed on Daddy at least thrice and twice on me, and both of us have been the recipients of your projectile strength explosive mustard yellow poo. You enjoy long pooping sessions where you let loose the floods of gold at least thrice while farting happily, and then you wait for us to change you into a fresh diaper before soaking the new one with pee. You then look at us, wide-eyed, for approval.

You love Mommy’s (tuneless) singing – The only way to put you to sleep when you’re colicky is Mommy’s broken record of a voice, apparently. And because you take so long to sleep, I’ve resorted to singing every single nursery rhyme I know, and then some oldies. Some really obscure examples: Fat Larry’s Band’s “Zoom”, Pilot’s “January”, Bread’s “Aubrey”, The Rainbow Connection, and The Beatles’ “Blackbird”. I blame my father’s (your grand dad’s) eclectic taste in music.

But most of all, Sophie Rose, you are beautiful. Every day, even on the bad days, I look at you sleeping so peacefully and I wonder what I did to deserve you and how on earth your Daddy and I could have made something so perfect. When you snuggle into my arms, I am overwhelmed by such an intense wave of love that I sometimes cannot breathe, and when you break into your toothless grins, we cannot help but burst into laughter too. You are so lovable to me, a hundred times over, and I don’t know how its possible, but I love you more and more every day. More than yesterday and less than tomorrow.

Car, vois-tu, chaque jour je t’aime davantage,
Aujourd’hui plus qu’hier et bien moins que demain.

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Don’t grow so fast, my little sweet pea !

xx

Mommy

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