Baby 2, Letter 9

There were ten in the bed and the little one said
"Roll over, roll over..."

Lily,

You roll over.  And over and over and over.  You are the busiest girl.  Unlike your brother, who really could not be bothered to move much at all and who preferred to be bundled like a burrito most of his infant life, you  like to roam free.  You never needed (nor wanted) a tight swaddle, and you relish the opportunity to show off your kicking and stretching, which I can only presume you learned from your Aunt Lindsey sometime in the womb.  I can't be sure, since she wasn't in this state while you were gestating, but somehow it sunk in.  Your Aunt Lindsey is the kickin-est, stretchin-est woman ever.  Even when she falls down, she's still good at it.  I assume you'll be the same.  One day, I'll explain.

Anyway, you like to use your arms and legs and you were far ahead of the class in the rolling over competition.  Oh, wait.  We don't compete. Right?  Well, whatever.  You did it early.  And you do it and do it and do it, much to my chagrin, because once you get over?  Guess what.  You want to be on your back again, and that, girlfriend, you haven't quite figured out.  So there you lay, like a scrambling bug looking for footing, and dang if you aren't just mad about it.  HEY SISTER, YOU DID IT TO YOURSELF.  These are lessons I had to be in my 30's to learn, so hopefully you'll be brighter than your old mom and do just go ahead and figure that out at four months and save us both a lot of slammed doors.

Next week, you'll be asking me to borrow the car.  OH, TOO BAD.  I HAVE A MINI VAN.  Sucks to be you.  No one wants that.  I am no dummy, sister. I  will drive the uncoolest car I can possibly muster until you are 20 so you will never request to drive it.  BEEN THERE DONE THAT.  Hellooo, Ford Escort.  Oh, they don't make you anymore? I'll find one from the 80's.  Surely my daughter won't want to borrow it and ride down dirt roads with warm bottles of Boone's Farm in that.  Not that I know anything about that.

Lily, you are going to be a challenge.  You're a super-good girl now, and all smiles and gurgles and fantastic baby sounds.  But I can tell that you possess a certain spunk that your brother does not.  He is all sweetness and light and snuggles and FEELINGS.  You tend more toward the "HEY GIRL, LET'S ROLL" sort of programming, and while I respect that (I have NO IDEA where you got it), it terrifies me.

Roll on, sister.  Just do it wearing a seatbelt, helmet, and any other protective gear they offer.

You're hilarious and bubbly and everything I ever hoped a daughter would be, even when I didn't think I'd get to have a daughter.  Thank you SO MUCH for screwing up last summer.  You are worth every minute of my disastrous swimsuit season.

All my hugs and kisses,

Mama