A Letter to Else, aged 7 months

Else, my daughter, my little baby, you are so wonderful. I cannot believe how much you have grown in these past months. It boggles my mind, really. You've gone from being a little tiny, mewling newborn into a baby with a tooth (just one for now!), who can talk in your own way, and throw your hands in the air when you're happy, and sit on the floor, and play with toys by yourself, and eat real people food (I think you like yoghurt and applesauce and avocado the best) and laugh when something is funny, and cry when something is bothering you. I have been reading alot of other blogs lately, reading other mothers who can write more eloquently than I, about how they mourn the loss of their little babies as they grow older and turn into kids but who are so excited to see how they will turn out and what tomorrow holds. I must admit that I too feel this way, though because you are still so little, you have so many new things to discover, and the weight of all of those things pulls me down until I want to cry. I want to cry because I am excited for you to learn what the world has in store for you, to see how you will see the world, to see how you will interact with the things inside it. I want to cry because I can imagine the day when you won't let me kiss that little spot on your temple, or the bridge of your nose, because you'll be too big for that kind of thing, and not want mommy smothering you. I remember feeling that way about my own mother, and I know you will come to this point and I will have my memories of you as your younger self but it won't soothe the ache in my heart. I want to cry in anticipation of the moment when you realize that there are things out there that can hurt you, because that day will represent your innocence being lost and I want to keep each day that your have it close to me, and to you.
That being said, I had intended this blog to keep track of your growth and my reflections on it (well some other random things too) but I find myself treating this much like a diary, which I was never very good at keeping at any time in my life. So you will have to take these entries as they come, sporadic at best, and remember that the reason I didn't write more is because you've kept me so busy! You are such an active and alert child, you don't miss a thing. And it's not that you keep me running all day; it's that I watch you all day and think of these things that I want to write down but can never remember when the time comes to do so. Tonight you didn't want to go to bed so I spent the better part of an hour nursing you and singing to you, then rocking you to sleep. You finally stayed that way and gave me a few moments to write about you and I hope that when you are 5, or 10, or 24, that you won't be embarrassed that I thought it a good idea to lay bare your little life for others to read!
Speaking of sleep I am going to leave this for now and get some rest because I know you will be up a few times in the night. Teething has been a trial for me, because I do miss my sleep. A lot. But it has been worse for you... obviously.