Dear Sweet Sylvia,
Oh, my dear. Where do I begin? This month arrives with a twinge of sadness. Our honeymoon is over, little girl, and our summer has come to an end. You and I have spent every day together for the last four months and we are very lucky to have done so. I've learned so much about you and about myself and about our family, so I should thank you for opening my eyes to all the wonders of motherhood. As we start our journey into a working-mother/day-care-daughter duo, I want you to know that even though I can't spend my days with you anymore, I will spend every minute of every morning, evening and weekend showering you with as many hugs and kisses as is humanly possible. All the snuggling and loving we've been doing all day will have to be squished into a few hours at night and all day Saturday and Sunday, so get ready for some serious cuddles. And during those days when I'm not with you, I'll be thinking of you every minute. I'll be sending happy thoughts your way and I'll do my best to race home to you as soon as I can each night. I'm sure if you could talk, you'd say, "Get over it, Mama. I'll be fine in day care, and you'll be fine without me." And you'd be right.
You've learned how to do a lot of important things this month, Nugget. You can roll over from your back to your belly like a champ and you've rolled from belly to back at least twice, but that's a little bit harder. You can grasp just about anything we put in front of you and you're getting much better at putting things in your mouth to explore. Just today, while I was looking at pictures on the computer with you on my lap, you grabbed a Sharpie marker and shoved the plastic end of it right into your mouth before I even knew it was missing. A little scary, since a permanent ink pen isn't the best of chew toys, but an accomplishment nonetheless. Your greatest achievement this month, though, has to be - your voice!
You've been playing around with the idea of talking since you were first born, but this month you've really found your voice. You can squeal and shriek with the best of them and it's these happy times that I know you must be MY daughter! Sometimes you're neither happy nor sad, just exploring all the sounds your voice can make while you drone on and on in a constant hum. You're developing a laugh and a cry and lots of silly spurts and bubbles that constantly make me and Daddy laugh. You talk to us, you talk to yourself, and you talk to your toys in the most adorable baby babble I've ever heard. I can tell you're going to use that voice for great things, which is why I've decided to write about it tonight.