Today was the day that our daughter was supposed to be born. Yeah, she was overly excited about experiencing the world so she came two months early. Despite all the craziness, and a health care system that exploits the masses [for a later post], I'm so grateful for this bonus time. Last night was probably one of the best nights she's slept so far, waking up only once. I fed her a few hours ago, put her back to bed and headed out to a coffee shop to get some work done [no, she's not by herself; Kelly's there].
As I sat there feeding her, with the morning sun illuminating the city around us, I thought about who she'd become. Yesterday we went for a walk in Eden Park and Kelly and I were talking about Kaelyn; how I hope she's smart and that she loves music as much as we do. There's so much I want for her. And so much I want to do with her: teach her, inspire her, start her off on the right path to become a well balanced human being.
So I tell her deep thoughts . . . and she spits up. So I sing to her . . . and she messes her diaper. So I play the guitar for her . . . and she ignore me.
Right now she'd listen to me say or sing anything as long as I'm holding a bottle to her mouth.
She's cool like that.
A few days ago a good friend of mine asked what kind of parenting style we were using. I had no idea I was even supposed to be using a style, so I'm tempted to feel as if I'm screwing up. But looking at her this morning, I thought it doesn't really matter. Right now I'm just loving loving her. I might hold her too much, or not enough, depending on who you ask. Maybe I shouldn't let her fall asleep on me as much as I do, but I don't care.
Everyone and their grandmother keeps telling me that she's only this age/size once so savor every minute of it. People tell me that the only thing that matters at this stage is that we love her. I can so do that.
And I will. Happy birth-date, Kaelyn.