3 months

27 June 2009

Dear Asa,

This month you have become a baby. My little newborn, with his unfocused eyes and tightly clenched fists, is gone. And in his place is this wonderful, chubby baby. Delicious rolls of fat have replaced your skinny thighs, and the roundness of your belly is very Buddha-esq. I delight in your bigness, your new you-ness. I look at you now, laying on your tummy, head held high, and you're so much more substantial. So much more aware and in charge. I didn't really notice it until it was gone, but a newborn baby is so very delicate, so fragile and small. Curled up and tucked in, they peek at the word from their mother's arms. But here beside me is a baby. You survey the entire room and lock onto something you like - usually something bright and flashy. You smile at me in the morning, and you laugh when I say "Hey!" in a deep, funny voice. You get frustrated when you try to roll over (you're almost there!) and you get bored when left too long with the same view. You are taking in everything in the whole, wide world, seeing it all for the very first time.



Your hands seem to be your favorite toy lately. In fact, they bring you great joy. You can go for quite some time on your own, perfectly entertained by your fingers. You chew and gnaw on them, alternating left and right, pushing them back as far as your gag reflex will allow (and sometimes farther) then pull them out of your mouth, strings of drool dripping, and eye them suspiciously. You check them out, as if to make sure these wonderful things are really truly yours, then, with utter delight, shove them back into your open mouth. More often than not the front of your shirts are completely soaked, one after the other we change you all day long. But the joy you have found is totally worth the extra laundry. Drool on little boy.



Something else comes with being such a big baby now - sleeping through the night. Now this is definitely something to celebrate! The first 8 weeks felt so erratic, with no up or down, no schedule, no real pattern. And then around 10 weeks this started to change. I noticed that you acted sleepy around the same time every morning, and you wanted to eat around the same time every night. And like magic, it began. You're up for the day around 7:30, eat a little brekky and it's time to play. You're all tuckered out by 9:30 when you sleep for about an hour. The day continues with a sort of two hours awake one hour sleeping pattern. No big sleeps during the day for you. It's almost like you're afraid you'll miss something, like you're worried something fantastic may go down when you close your eyes. So you cat nap through the day, short and frequent. And by 10pm you are ready to have a good long eat, and get swaddled up for the first long sleep of the night. On a good night you'll stay asleep until 4 or 5, eat, then go back to sleep until 7 or 8. This schedule business is a beautiful thing. So is five to seven hours of uninterrupted sleep!



You have also become quite the little traveler my love, and I am so proud of us all - you, your dad and I - for doing so well! You've stayed in hotel rooms and friend's houses, flown on planes and taken long car rides. You've been to Pennsylvania, New Jersey and California. Every time we head out I'm more confident, every time a little more sure of myself. It's such a wonderful thing to realize that my life is still what I want it to be - No, it's even better. Your father and I still live our lives the way we always have, flying or driving to shows, visiting friends, enjoying company, dinners out and glasses of wine. And now you're with us, you join the party. We're a "table for three", an unstoppable trio, a gang of our own. We are a family. We will have grand adventures, now with you by our side. I wouldn't have it any other way.



Love,
mom

Asa has a lot to say

Asa talks from lichen richardson on Vimeo.

Sparkle

Asa's grandfather

Here's of video of my father, Papa John, from last summer. I have so many childhood memories that look just like this - summer time at a lake, river or quarry, my dad climbing up something, preparing to jump off. Seriously. Bridges, cliffs and, as seen here, trees.

Papa John from lichen richardson on Vimeo.

How many 67 year old men do you know that can do that?

I wonder if I'll take pictures of anything else ever again

Now that Asa is here he is the only thing in my camera's viewfinder. I can't help it, it just happens. Every time I pick up the camera it turns to him. Every moment seems like it's just begging to be captured. Every day something new to record....

His first night in the bassinet. The very same bassinet that I slept in, one that's been in the family four generations now (see Sheryl!).

Steve surveys the scene

Being so big is tiring business

So big! Lifting that head all the time now (and only occasionally slamming that face back into the ground. Ouch.)

A lovely sweater to match the eyes (thanks Cynthia!)

Laughing and laughing. This is my absolute favorite thing in the whole wide world. That little sound gets me every time. Tiny chuckles spilling out of this happy little boy. Perfection.

Two months

May 27, 2009

Dear Asa,

We're unfolding this month lovie, you and me both. Suddenly, we're mobile. We go to the store, and the post office. We're learning to run errands. We've even flown across the country! Your very first flight was this month, from Albany Ny to Los Angeles Ca. And I have to admit it, I was scared. I can hardly define the nervousness that I felt. I think I was visibly shaken when we got to our quiet local airport (one that we've flown out of many times, never ever having waited in one single line) to find a string of people down the entire length of the terminal. There were more people there at 5am on a Wednesday that I ever could have imagined. What's worse is that your dad wasn't even booked on our flight! He was scheduled to head out later in the day, meaning that you and I would have to tackle the whole day of travel by ourselves. With a 38 minute layover at Newark Airport. I felt uncertain, stressed and totally uptight. And you know what? It was all for nothing. You were a doll, and absolute joy.You smiled at doting flight attendants, slept more than half the way and barely made a peep. And we even got to fly with your dad, making it all the better. Having him to support me was what made the difference I think. Just knowing that he was on our team, ready to help us in any way that he could - glaring at nearby passengers if they made rude remarks, holding our hands during take off, digging through bags for pacifiers and diapers. We made it to LA together without any trouble at all.

Our time in LA was idyllic. We stayed a little over a week with Cynthia and her family and it was a dream. We often remarked that it was the perfect summer vacation. Lillian, now 5 and a half, played with neighborhood kids, Harry, one and a half, split his time between following his sister and his mom, and little Althea, just three weeks older than you, sat, smiled and slept happily by your side. What friends you will have in those kids and what joy I take in knowing that. Throughout most of my pregnancy I imagined this very scenario - sitting in the sunny back yard, sipping wine, chatting and laughing with one of my dearest friends in the world, while you lay happily beside me soaking in the sun with her youngest daughter. Two little babies and two happy mommies, passing the time exactly as they wanted. It was just perfect.

(Lillian)

(Harry and the watermelon)

(Althea and Asa)

Every day I watch you emerge, watch you unfold and stretch into yourself. Your eyes - still navy blue but now with a brighter ring around the pupil - focus on me clearly now. They catch me as I float across your field of vision, smiling down at you from this motherly height. There's a moment of concentration, a pause and a slight furrow of the brow, and then the synapses fire, the message clicks, and you realize it's me, mom, and the dreamiest smiles spread across your face. Mouth open wide, showing pink toothless gums, lips upturned at the corners, buried into sweet, round cheeks. It is a heavenly moment, a superb burst of joy every time.


You've been full of noises these past few weeks as well. Grunts, squeaks and squawks of all sorts. Short bursts of throaty groans, high pitched squeals, angry cries that get you so worked up you are snorting with frustration. Most of your noises are ones of happiness though, and you often look your dad and I right in the eye when you cackle and screech. Needless to say, we chatter right back. This early communication astounds me. You already have things to say, opinions to express and requests to make. I listen and wonder what you're thinking, wonder what this interaction means to you. I listen and I hang on every syllable.

(Strawberry blond boy)

Your personality is climbing out, letting it's presence be known and I see it. I see you in there. A little person, a little human being, unfurling his leaf-like limbs and joining the world. And I am here, unfolding myself, changing and adapting, learning and growing into the mother I want to be. Together we greet the wide, wide world.



Love,
mom

Papa John's visit

Papa John's first visit to New York - what better reason to visit the Big Apple than the birth of your first grandson?

Laughing with Papa John


On our first hike

Smiling in his sleep

Laughing with dad

Asa plays now with Papa John, the two of them quite interested in one another. They smile and laugh together as I sip my coffee and look over the photos from the last week.

What a treat it is to have my dad in town. It feels me with unimaginable pride to introduce my father to my son and to watch them spend the first of many, many happy moments together.