::Aurora's Monthly Newsletter, June 2013::
Dear Aurora,
Another month (well, more than a month; I’m over a week and a half late, which is AGES in baby time) has zoomed by. I planned to write this on your 2-month birthday, but that day you got your 2-month vaccinations. The rest of the afternoon consisted of screaming so persistent that I lost my breath after half an hour of loud shushing in your ear and had to resort to turning on the vacuum next to us. It was really loud, but it short-circuited your brain enough to make you forget you were hurting at the injection sites. But then, in Rory fashion, you settled down by bedtime and proceeded to sleep for 7 hours.
For Memorial Day, we journeyed to Big Basin Redwoods State Park, one of our favorites. The windy roads didn’t seem to bother you, and you were cool to be passed along to different people while Dad and I enjoyed the ceviche, guacamole, fajitas, and margaritas. You also enjoyed my outing with the Mountain View Moms group to Vasona Park, where my friend Alisa and I wore you while Sagan ran around and played on the jet fuselage there. You slept the whole time in the Baby Bjorn when we went to the Bay Area Discovery Museum for Father’s Day. You seem pretty content to be worn, but as it gets hotter, I see this becoming a slight problem.
We also ventured to The City when your Nana Judy came to visit, and you were a champ in the car all day for that, too. She loved being able to meet you, and when you first met, you had a huge grin ready to melt her heart. You and Dad both got a treat on his birthday, when you took a long nap together.
I took you to see Dr. Woo, my OB/GYN who delivered, you, and she remarked with some awe about how strong you were (though she had previous experience with your strength when she removed your hand from the top of your head while you were still in utero).
You got a special delivery from Pitter of hair bows, which you’ll tolerate. A bit. I mostly accessorize you with your dozens of shoe-socks and with your bibs.
Your tongue is a new discovery; you’ll mimic our actions if we stick our tongues out, which is hilarious. You suck your fists, even when you’re not hungry, like you’ll be able to siphon gold from them.
The best part of this month has been the persistence of your unstoppable smile. When anyone comes to your crib in the morning or after a nap, you stop your cooing (you rarely cry when you wake--you just coo) and send them a ray of smile-light so bright it illuminates them, too. When I get you in the morning, before I nurse you, we talk a little bit, swapping ah-goos and bigga-boos, and you smile as I lift you out. It’s the best part of my day.
Your smile is readiest, though, for your brother. He merely has to walk through your field of view to get you to grin. He clearly, and I hope irrevocably, loves you, offering a laugh, or a pat, every time he sees you. And you reciprocate! It’s very unexpected, just how much you’re drawn to him. He says, “Aurora so cute!” and “Me love her!” all the time. And when he says those things, I just gush with love for both of you, of your coming years of comraderie, cuddles, and adventure.
You are my sweetie-pie, Aurora.
Love,
Mom
DISLIKES Vaccine injection sites, the process of pooping, too-small footie pajamas,
LIKES Going to sleep 90 minutes after waking up, bathtime, being tickled, sucking your fingers or thumb, Sagan's kisses
THINGS YOU CAN DO NOW Hold your head up, turn to the sound of our voices, bring your hands to your mouth, support your body weight with your legs, "run" on your back
