On Thursday you turned two months old. Two months also meant two month vaccines. Your brother Waleed begins plotting exit strategies as soon as he sees an approaching stethoscope, but you? Not yet. And as much as a hollering toddler makes for interesting doctor visits, I’d almost prefer those to these. These ones when you are too small to know what comes next. Where you coo at the doctor, the large zebra painted on the wall, and the nurse holding the needle and then– the way your eyes widen in a look of hurt, and of betrayal when the pain enters your body and you tremble and scream with all you have. I can tell myself logically that you will remember none of this, that in mere seconds you will be just fine and yet in that moment seeing you in such real pain twists my heart in a peculiar, primal sort of way.
Other than the dreaded shots, your second month has been a good one even if your mama still hasn’t gotten the hang of your particular type of sleep-training. You’ve been visited by friends and family, some who even quite kindly come bearing food [And to my dear friends who brought Zaxby’s– that’s when you know someone gets you]. Your Phupo and family also came by to meet you, and as I watched your cousins pause to kiss you before they resumed chasing each other through the house, I tried to imagine you joining this herd of boys one year from now, its hard to picture– and yet I’ve been here before. I know these precious moments of your smallness are fleeting and this is why I never turn down an opportunity for a cuddle or a kiss. One day far sooner than I’d like, you will be too busy for such things.
This is the month of first gurgles and coos and you are chatty one! And your coos, the initial forays into conversation? One of them sounds exactly like hi. It’s a strange thing. I’ve been here before. You are after all my second-born, and yet– each of your firsts feels like my very first time and your smiles? They give me butterflies, they give me an endorphin high. It’s not just the smiles, its how you smile, how your eyes light up when you see me and how you babble with such inflection, as though there is so much you want to convey.
You’re only two months old but your brother is getting eager for you to hurry and grow up so he can play with you. He’s offers to loan you his bike, pulls out your hand to teach you to count and requests your attention as he instructs you on the art of lego buildings. As much as I’m savoring your chubby arms and babyhood, he’s waiting for you to get a move on so he can play with you as much as he wants. Your eyes light up when he leans in for a kiss or a tickle, and he adores you completely, even if he does think you’re his human sticker book– one that should be measured regularly. Someday you might squabble over toys, but I hope this love I see between the two of you is what endures.
Happy two month birthday Musa. It’s been two months of two-hour sleep cycles. Two months of baby bjorn and moby wraps once again and two months of my heart expanding to wrap around the universe twice. I love you with all that I am. I love you for all that you are.