Saturday, February 03, 2007

Dear Abby

People told me that life would change drastically when you arrived and it certainly has. You came into my life when I was starting to feel the desire to take care of someone other than your father. I wanted to have my dreams of my future to start being realized today... and you have made it so.
Abby and her faux-hawk
Some people ask me how I spend my days with you. I tell them that we have many conversations... although most are one-sided. You should know that as much as I talk to you about Real Analysis, Schrodinger's equations, and Kuhn-Tucker, I don't dream about you becoming an engineer or mathematician. I just do that to see the look of horror on my friends' faces. Still, sometimes you laugh when I tell you how the sum of infinite numbers could actually be a finite number and I wonder if maybe you have a little bit of my nerdiness in you. Or... maybe it's that you're laughing at me. Either way, it's ok because your laugh makes me laugh too.

You were an eagerly anticipated baby. For months in advance, we gathered the gear we would need to take care of you. We used a stuffed monkey as a your substitute to test out what we got.
Testing the Baby Bjorn

Everyday, I would place a hand on my growing belly to make sure you moved at least 10 times in an hour to guarantee your health. Often, you would start hiccuping and I could count 10 movements in less than a minute.

When you were born, I expected you to cry the soft cry of a newborn but you let out a scream worthy of a 3 month old. I was startled but quickly realized that your father is incapable of whispering. That loud voice will help you be heard over the din of your boisterous parents - the marvels of evolution. I love your long fingers because I can dream that maybe one day you will play piano and will learn to love the rich symphonies of Brahms or the chord progressions by Bach or the wonderful melodies of Schubert just like me. And your eyes... I wonder if someday you will be teased as I was that your eyes are shaped like almonds. I hope that you will respond as I did that you don't care because your daddy loves your almond shaped eyes and how they curve into small arches when you let out a giggle. You should. We love the curiosity in your eyes as you stare at the sunlight reflected on our walls and the suspicious glance you throw us when we aren't handling you quite right.
Abby enjoys reading

You have filled our life with hope, love and laughter. Some people would say that I should hold off until you are a teenager to see how you really turn out. I say to those people that I will probably love you more as you start to rebel against my wishes creating a new "you" that is separate from my dreams and wishes. We are imperfect parents by any stretch. Your dad said that he hopes that in your future is wisdom, integrity, and charity. Me... I hope for languid afternoons of shopping and ice cream. I guess all that means is that I hope we are close... that you can confide in me your fears and dreams. With that, you might be able to attain all those things your dad wishes for in spite of the parents you have.

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