Reposted from my facebook notes. Dated May 22, 2011
Just this morning, you
flashed me your beautiful toothless grin and there, I decided I want to
spend another hour in bed with you – all the while knowing that by doing
so, I’d have to cramp taking a bath, getting dressed, kissing you and
your Papa goodbye into the 10-minute window I have left before heading
to work, then returning from the door to give you another round of
kisses.
And just this morning, while walking down the flight of stairs from 501, I thought of how much you’ve grown from the 4-pound little boy that we brought home from the hospital last December 24. You can now sit by yourself in your wheels (that is how your papa and I refer to your stroller) – a milestone that I proudly shared to my fellow moms at work – my Qube is becoming independent na.
I remembered how small and fragile you were when we brought you home. And you were yellow – as in jaundiced yellow.
But being the little fighter that you are, you got over the jaundice, grown at the pace that your pedia has had a hard time believing, and turned into quite a looker. In fact, as early as now, girls already swoon over you. Of course, I am on top of the list. The English-speaking-pretty-five-or- something-little girl in BHS who came from nowhere and started kissing you the last time we were there, the strangers who stop us in malls and at the airport to greet you and to ask if you are of foreign blood and not to be outdone are your Lolas and Titas who are understandably biased towards you.
There are many other small things about you that I should have written from day one. But I got so engrossed witnessing and marveling at your day to day growth that I couldn’t get myself to leave you, to write. Besides, we take photos of you every day… and if there’s any truth to the saying that a picture paints a thousand words, there would be several volumes of books about you by now.
But you see, I realized that
it’s not enough. So while you are asleep beside me, I decided to start
writing. And there will be separate stories about your first smile, your
first turn, your refusal to do “close-open” until now and your papa’s
insistence that it’s still too early to push you to “close-open” your
hands, your first real laugh, your excitement when you want me to
get/hold you, and many many others.
Happy fifth month Qube.
And just this morning, while walking down the flight of stairs from 501, I thought of how much you’ve grown from the 4-pound little boy that we brought home from the hospital last December 24. You can now sit by yourself in your wheels (that is how your papa and I refer to your stroller) – a milestone that I proudly shared to my fellow moms at work – my Qube is becoming independent na.
I remembered how small and fragile you were when we brought you home. And you were yellow – as in jaundiced yellow.
 |
| Sunbathing to remove the yellow. |
 |
| Qube at 8 days. |
But being the little fighter that you are, you got over the jaundice, grown at the pace that your pedia has had a hard time believing, and turned into quite a looker. In fact, as early as now, girls already swoon over you. Of course, I am on top of the list. The English-speaking-pretty-five-or- something-little girl in BHS who came from nowhere and started kissing you the last time we were there, the strangers who stop us in malls and at the airport to greet you and to ask if you are of foreign blood and not to be outdone are your Lolas and Titas who are understandably biased towards you.
There are many other small things about you that I should have written from day one. But I got so engrossed witnessing and marveling at your day to day growth that I couldn’t get myself to leave you, to write. Besides, we take photos of you every day… and if there’s any truth to the saying that a picture paints a thousand words, there would be several volumes of books about you by now.
Happy fifth month Qube.
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