Dear Hummingbird, Month Five

Mia Bean,

I love having a baby in the house. It certainly causes stress to hear you cry and attend to you at night, and it is hard on my back to lug you around constantly but I love it all the same.

I love listening to your gurgles and throaty attempts at talking; I love running my finger over your milky skin and patting your tushy dry; I love the smell of your breath, like fresh rain; I love to watch your breathing slow as you sink into sleep. You are always clean and new and bright (ok, maybe not always clean), and so quick to smile. I love that theses gifts are mine for the taking any time.

Mia, you are such a sweet little baby. For an hour or two after each wake time, you are a complete angel - good natured and smiling at everything. I love to cradle you and then quickly scrunch you up to my face for a kiss, then lower you, over and over. You smile so big and let out an amused, "Huh, he, huh."

Holding you is so bittersweet. Your head rests in the crook of my elbow as you nurse and your free hand is busy. First, one comes up to grip my finger, then tug at my necklace. As your sucking slows, your hand calms, resting with its palm open between my breasts as if to say, "Stay put, Mama." I often with I could send you the same message, because it seems you are speeding through your babyhood.

A few days ago, you were five months old.

You roll constantly, once from your back to front but mostly from front to back. You swim on your tummy, conditioning your muscles for crawling, and do constant sit ups and leg lifts. You can sit on your own for nearly a minute, handling a toy. You especially love your rattle with a kitty cat-shaped head, your knot block and the Sesame Street pop-up toy. You can transfer a toy from hand to hand, although not every time you try.

You are enamored with your feet. You love to stare at them, wiggle them, eat them. It seems they are both beautiful and tasty.

A few days ago, I held you in my lap, amusing you with a toy horse while I helped Sasha eat her lunch. Sasha banged her hand onto the table in frustration. I playfully covered it with my own. Her scrunchy frustrated face grew wide and happy and she pulled her hand out from under mine and plunked it on top. She burst out laughing. You glanced at her smile and burst out laughing, too. She thought your toothy, grunty laugh was hysterical and laughed even harder. I plunked my hand back onto hers and all three of us giggled wildly with each other and at each other. It was silly and we all thought so. As we continued to play and laugh, I wished I could bottle up that feeling of girlish glee.

It was touching to see you react to your sister's happiness with your own. But it was more than that. In that moment, you were one of us, playing right alongside and adding your own sense of humor and personality to the mix. You came out of the shadows - no longer just a baby to wipe, dress, rock to sleep, feed, entertain. You were entertaining us. I think I may look back on that moment and realize that from then on, you were part of our little club - a contributing member of our daytime clan of girls.

I ask the two of you, "I see two princesses. Where is my tiny one?" You brighten and Sasha says, "Right there," and sticks a nubby finger into your belly. "And where is my little one?" "Right there," she says, pointing that finger at herself. "And one mommy," she says. That's right. We three princesses.

Though certainly one of us girls, you are also particularly partial to your Daddy. If he's in the room, your eyes are on him. You follow his voice when he walks away and constantly look to engage him in a smiling contest: Who can smile bigger? You are googly-eyed over each other. He bathes you every night. Your favorite place is in his "arm chair," and he can rock you down to sleep faster than anyone else (including me). It is wonderful to see you two together, your face so secure and happy when he is near.

I am more confident now in getting us out of the house. We now make regular visits to parks, museums, the mall. You love your Bjorn and also the stroller, and you adore seeing new things.

You are getting more regular in your naps - taking two one-hour rests around 9 and 1. You are still not sleeping through the night, but we're working on it. The past few nights I have fed you only once, around 2 a.m., and that has been good for me. You wake up around 10 p.m., too, and your Daddy or I go in to help shush you back to sleep. Last night both of us went in. We changed your diaper, then I held you as your crying quieted and your head got heavy on my shoulder. Your Daddy put his big hand on your back and held my free hand. The three of us swayed together.

I'll admit that the baby phase is not the easiest for me - my brain turns to mush, all my hair falls out, I get stressed and nervous, feel guilty over silly things and yell at your Daddy for nothing. But all of the drawbacks are worth it because there is nothing like holding you, my tiny one, seeing your brilliant smile, and watching you grow.

I love you forever.

Mama