Praises to my Baby

Mary is 2 years, 4 months, 3 weeks and 1 day old , as anyone can see by the Lilypie ticker in the header. She is not by most standards, a baby. However, she is my baby, and I am constantly amazed by her. Today was a pure Mary day, with Emma at preschool. It was not remarkable in any way, except that Mary was in it. Maybe there are some things I can tell you about her.

First of all, she is more beautiful than anything else I know. Her endlessly blue eyes, set deep in her face and framed by the delicate brown smudges of eyebrows and lashes against her pale porcelain skin always spark with a slight bend of humor. Her perfect pearl teeth line up between the outlines of her rosy bowtie lips the hold a suggestion of dimples. Her muscular legs bounce her along regularly with enthusiasm usually reserved for special occasions. Her gentle curls bounce with every movement. She is, in a word, beautiful.

She is funny. My Mary can tell a joke. She loves to make a funny little grunt noise to make her family members (especially her sister) laugh. She puts random things on her head and says, "Look at me!" just to share a smile. She laughs at Tom and Jerry cartoons while sympathizing with the injured party. She is pleased with herself if you find something funny in what she did or said.

She is empathetic. When I yell at Emma for something, Mary tears up and says, "Don't be mean to my sweet sister!". When Emma has done something wrong and I am correcting it (more reasonably), she hugs my leg, repeating, "I love you, Mama". When somebody on a show gets hurt, she tells them it's OK. She gives me random hugs when I am just sitting quietly and tells me, "Don't cry, Mama, I love you".

She is smarter than I could ever expect. She draws pictures of jellyfish and self portraits that are recognizable. She correctly identifies letters that I have never taught her. She can play a melody on the piano if you show her how to do it first. She makes up songs constantly about things she is doing and manages to rhyme the words. She peruses picture books and makes up back stories. She sings entire verses to songs that I sing to her. She amazes me at every turn.

Every night after she is asleep I check in on her and kiss her goodnight. Dear Mary! She is now in a regular twin bed (although she refuses to use anything but her crib blanket) and she looks so tiny in the middle of it. I cannot let go of the little infant that nursed and slept in my arms yet, despite all of the indications that she is nearly a kid. She continues to cry over anything (temperamental, that one) and squeal with anger - both things left over from a firey infant life. And I know I'll even miss those when they evaporate, because there will no longer be any remainders of her babyhood.

I don't know where I was going with this. Usually I feel I have a nice, tidy ending to bring it all around. But I just wanted to share some of my overwhelming Mother love for this little creature who I am so blessed to call my daughter.