You are four months old, which I totally forgot when I packed for our camping trip. I was very good about packing pants and socks for you, in case it was colder up north. And it was, so I thought we were doing fine. Until I actually tried to dress you in pants and socks and realized that they were all too small for you. So you spent a couple of days in your pajamas until we got back to the Cottage and it was warm enough for just a shirt again. The only reason you minded was because you couldn't suck on your toes.
Everyone loved holding you and talking to you, and if I wasn't careful it was easy to lose track of who had wandered off with you. Aunt Alice tried to use you as reason why her son and his wife should have a baby sooner rather than later; it's not your fault that it didn't work. We were all speculating on who might be the next baby to come camping, but I think you'll likely be the youngest kid for at least another year.
You are talking a lot now, and starting to get the hang of conversational pauses. You still do funny little yells sometimes, which always make me laugh. You complain especially loud when I lay you down and the move out of your line of sight. These are the sweet days when you actually want your parents to be around you. We have to savor this time, the time before the teenage years when you'll have those days that you wish you were an orphan.
You're starting on some teething pain, I think, since you spend most of your time now chewing on whatever you can get into your mouth. It was my finger, most of the time that we were driving to and from the UP, and your little gums felt pretty hard. So we've got orajel back in the house, and I've got to spend some time finding the teething rings before you chew my finger off.
On a more serious note, I've been feeling intimidated by you lately. Or rather, not by you, but by raising a girl. I have been hearing a lot lately about women being treated badly--in video game culture, and in comic book culture, and at various conventions. There's been controversy around the appearance of a Black female athlete in the Olympics, which is so discouraging when we should simply be celebrating her talent and hard work. The political arena is still full of people who think that they should be able to tell you what you can and cannot do with your body and your career and your life. It's hard to think that you'll have to face that in your life, and that I can only prepare you and not shield you forever. I hope that you will not live your life according to someone else and their ideas of how you should be. I hope that you are smart enough to believe in yourself, and to protect yourself from that trap. Gather those people around you who help you see yourself clearly, in all of your beauty and all of your flaws. A friend who sees both and loves you for both is a true friend. Or a parent, one of the two.
Love,
Mom
Waiting for the new tire on the camper:
With Grandpa Lam at the Cottage:
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