I thought it would be fun to share some of the little songs that Travis and I sing to Sophia. We're always making up new songs, but we have two that have remained constant since she was a newborn! (Plus, of course, all of the standard lullabies).
The following is the song that Travis improvised for Sophia (it's a spin-off of the "baby beluga" song):
Sophia, Sophia, queen of the sea
Sophia, Sophia, wouldn't it be
so fun to live in the deep blue sea
so fun to swim so wild and free
Sophia, Sophia queen of the sea!
Sophia and daddy! (or "mommy" if I'm singing it!)
The following is the song that I improvised for Sophia (it's a spin-off of a lullaby that my mom improvised for baby Schuyler!):
Sophia is my special girl
she's the best baby in all the world
mommy loves her every day
stay right here, don't go away
Next Comes 5!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Practicing saying dadda!
At about 6.5 months Sophia started to say "mumma" and right before 7 months she started saying "Dadda!" She still seems a little vague on the meaning of the words, but we've noticed that she tends to say mumma when she's hungry or frustrated and says dadda when she's excited and playful. We're working with her a lot on these words, and I'm looking forward to a time (soon!) when she will use her first two words consistently.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
More thoughts on being a mom
Love didn't come right away. At first it was a fierce desire to protect this life. Being in charge of a human is such an incredible responsibility! I tackled it like any other responsibility in my life; with organization and research and a resolve to get an "A" in parenting. It's after those nights of her hand on my skin, after many soft sighs in her sleep, after the first time she smiled at me, that love filled me.
Being a mom gives life new nuances; new shades of meaning. I cry more, but it's never about myself. I used to cry when I was tired, or when I was frustrated, or when I was disappointed. Now I sob over every news story. I cried my heart out over the children in Gaza, who had stayed starving and dehydrated next to the bodies of their mothers for days. I cried over the story of the ex-pat in france who opens his home every Sunday to anyone who wants to come for dinner, just as a way to get people from all stripes of life together. I cry over those mailings from PETA and I cry about those mailings from The March of Dimes. Now I sob over every hint of tragedy and every instance of joy and triumph.
The state of our world devastates me. When people are unkind and disrespectful of each other it makes me sick. I can't understand how some are so cavalier about life; about the beautiful intertwining of nature and humanity and the intimate connections between us all.
The beauty in this world overwhelmes me. I am so overjoyed to discover with Sophia the texture of blankets, the coolness of the window, the interesting nature of cats.
Sophia gives me these gifts...a few days ago we were sitting together and she was examining the jade plant and I was thinking about work, about the laundry, what to make for dinner, when to start dinner, when to run on the treadmill, whether to let the dogs out, and how could I convince Sophia to play by herself for an hour or two or ten so I could get everything done, and then I looked down at her and I realized something. I realized that jade plants are amazing. They are beautiful and dark green and their leaves have such a lovely texture. I spent the next twenty minutes just marvelling at the jade plant, and at the event of my daughter discovering a jade plant.
Being a mom is no one thing, and it is no simple thing. It gives life the most wonderful details, and it is the best thing that I have ever experienced. Love came slowly, and I didn't notice how strongly it was there, woven through the fabric of everything, until I stopped pushing forward and took a moment to notice it. And there it was.
Being a mom gives life new nuances; new shades of meaning. I cry more, but it's never about myself. I used to cry when I was tired, or when I was frustrated, or when I was disappointed. Now I sob over every news story. I cried my heart out over the children in Gaza, who had stayed starving and dehydrated next to the bodies of their mothers for days. I cried over the story of the ex-pat in france who opens his home every Sunday to anyone who wants to come for dinner, just as a way to get people from all stripes of life together. I cry over those mailings from PETA and I cry about those mailings from The March of Dimes. Now I sob over every hint of tragedy and every instance of joy and triumph.
The state of our world devastates me. When people are unkind and disrespectful of each other it makes me sick. I can't understand how some are so cavalier about life; about the beautiful intertwining of nature and humanity and the intimate connections between us all.
The beauty in this world overwhelmes me. I am so overjoyed to discover with Sophia the texture of blankets, the coolness of the window, the interesting nature of cats.
Sophia gives me these gifts...a few days ago we were sitting together and she was examining the jade plant and I was thinking about work, about the laundry, what to make for dinner, when to start dinner, when to run on the treadmill, whether to let the dogs out, and how could I convince Sophia to play by herself for an hour or two or ten so I could get everything done, and then I looked down at her and I realized something. I realized that jade plants are amazing. They are beautiful and dark green and their leaves have such a lovely texture. I spent the next twenty minutes just marvelling at the jade plant, and at the event of my daughter discovering a jade plant.
Being a mom is no one thing, and it is no simple thing. It gives life the most wonderful details, and it is the best thing that I have ever experienced. Love came slowly, and I didn't notice how strongly it was there, woven through the fabric of everything, until I stopped pushing forward and took a moment to notice it. And there it was.
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