Benjamin Penguin

Dear Benjamin,

Has it been five months already? I can hardly believe the distorted way in which time seems to bend when you are with infant. Each day can seem immeasurably long, and yet when I look up from the fog of that day’s activities, I find that four days have passed and we are approaching another weekend. I’ve never wanted time to hurry up and yet stand still so desperately in my life.

You are a happy baby. I type this with an air of caution because I’ve watched one too many documentaries in which the subject starts with the phrase “He was such a happy baby…” before the ominous music swells and the subject rattles off a litany of horrors. But you really are a happy little guy. You smile so readily at your Mama, at Daddy and at your grandparents that I find my mind wanting to whistle “Zipidee-Do-Daa” in a continuous merriment loop. Of course, I am inclined to believe that you might be a bit of a nondiscriminate flirt, because you also smile coyly at the bank teller, the lady checking us out at the grocery store, the mail carrier, random strangers on the street and leaves. Particularly leaves. I say coyly because you have this adorable way of turning your head to the side slightly, with shoulders raising and chin tucked down, and scrunching your nose as you smile. I half expect to see you fanning yourself with a monogrammed lace handkerchief and dramatically proclaiming that you “do declare” all over town. You are also beginning to laugh quite a bit now when Mama pulls a funny. You seem to like really exaggerated head movements and big, open mouths with silly sounds coming out of them. I wrench my neck every time I am trying to get you to laugh, but it’s all worth it. This can also mean only one thing – you will have an unyielding infatuation with Steven Tyler of Aerosmith. This is not a bad thing, per say, but it pains me to no end that while Mama is rocking out to her indie rock, punk rock and 80s nostalgia CDs, and while Daddy is sitting gape-jawed in awe of his Eurobeats, you’ll be swiping the White Rain and making like a hairband metal head.

This past month I went to great pains to try and find us a baby carrier that you would not loathe. We tried the Moby wrap and it was a great flop. I didn’t like the feeling of being mummified and you didn’t like dangling by your crotch. We also tried a Hotsling, but you were not about to be worn in a pouch and Mama’s fat was not about to be molded in such a way as to allow you to sit comfortably against my body in said pouch. We tried a different sling that required you to lay vertically while being strapped in around your nethers. Just no. I tried a Ergo Carrier at an acquaintance’s house and while it truly did feel sturdy, as advertised, it FELT sturdy and bulky and not entirely comfortable on me. Therefore, there were but two more options. Throw you in a pillowcase and belt it to my body with Daddy’s old pleather belt, or try a mei tai. And wouldn’t you know it? We found success. You actually enjoy being in your mei tai to some degree. You have to have your arms out. And your head must clear the fabric holding you in. And if it gets to warm you get antsy. But in just the right conditions, you are actually quite content to be worn in this thing. The first few times we tried it, I wore you too low and so you got lost between the fabric and my belly. Right after I bought the thing, I decided to take it out of the packaging and walk you around the block before getting in the car and driving home. I just wanted to try it out right then and there because sometimes Mama likes to do the most stupid things for no discernible reason. I got you all set up, tied you in place and began an ungainly shuffle around the block. As I noted above, you were sitting too low, so you sunk down further and further into the mei tai until your head was no longer visible by the naked eye. The further you got, the warmer things got in there and the more I became palpably sweaty and bedraggled. I kept doing a little shifty dance to try and get you realigned, all the while sweating and walking in this odd, gingerly step to prevent you from jostling and slipping down further. About three minutes into our walk, it became apparent that people were crossing the road to get away from some insane, sweaty, mumbling, shifty person with a drunken gait, as one might find wandering the streets of the city. But alas, Benjamin, it was I that was the insanely scary pedestrian, and it was about that time that I cut the walk short and called it a day. We have since experimented with the mei tai and have actually stumbled across the best way to tie it for us so that both of us are happy and so that Mama does not run the risk of being arrested and committed. I don’t know why I so desperately wanted to find a baby carrier that you would tolerate, but when I was pregnant with you, I would daydream about carrying you around on my person like a good little hippie. So I appreciate your willingness to endure our experimentation in babywearing, if even for a few moments.

This month we have been planning your Baptism. I never gave it much thought – both Daddy and I have Sicilian blood and that’s what you do when you have a baby. You give birth and then you make sure your little bundle of happiness is cleansed of sin. It is what it is. But I’ve been looking forward to this for awhile, though I often wonder how you will react during the ceremony. I think you’ll cry, if for no other reason than it will make Daddy feel a bit flustered and who doesn’t enjoy that? I know that I like to inappropriately embarrass him from time to time just to keep him on his toes, so between the two of us, we should have him scrambling for Prozac in no time. You are really a chill baby, but when you don’t like something, you don’t like it. No ifs, ands nor buts. I suspect you won’t like the cold water on your head. I also suspect you won’t like all the sitting around. And if you’re anything like Mama, you’ll wonder why the Priest couldn’t get out his really flashy pink and purple vestments for just that day. I mean, it IS a Baptism after all. Let’s let loose and celebrate.

Also, Benjamin, I think you are starting to play. In the past, you would take toys as we would hand them to you and look at them quizzically, rolling them about in your hands and then tossing them aside. But lately there seems to be intent in your actions. Now, instead of just waiting for us to give you a toy, you seem to reach out for things to play with. More often than not this is the plastic keys or plastic telephone that you have become quite fond of. But it is not uncommon for you to incorporate Mama’s hair, Mama’s eyeballs or Mama’s glasses as a newfound plaything. And then these things do not just sit listlessly in your hands. Rather, you turn them about. You move them from one hand to the other. If they make noise, you shake them. If they light up, you are intrigued by the lights. If they have motion, you move them. And there is no toy so wondrous, so magnificent, as the Exersaucer. Your eyes simply light up when you are in there and you do this half-bounce, half-dance move that involves this impressive choreography of shimmying shoulders, head gyrations and kicky little leg movements. And I’m pretty sure I caught you displaying jazz hands just the other day. This toy is the loudest, most jam-packed with baby goodness item I have ever laid eyes upon. It mesmerizes you. It allows me, on a good day, to keep you entertained for 20 minutes so that I can quickly gobble up my dinner, so I love this thing as well.

And you, Daddy and I? We are doing super. With every passing month, we seem to settle more comfortably into this role as parents. It has transitioned from this stressful, overwhelming and terrifying experience to something that we actually enjoy on a day-to-day basis. I just wish that you could see how your Daddy is with you. He is so wonderfully warm and sweet with you that I can barely keep my head from swimming when he is near. He sees you and his eyes glaze over, and the tightness in his jaw slackens and he just melts in front of you. I think it amazes him in a near daily basis how much he loves you. I know it amazes me. I always knew he would be a good father, but I don’t think I could have known the depths to which he could be a profoundly great father. There will be challenges ahead, and you won’t always see eye to eye with him when you become the wisest teen in the universe, but trust me, Benjamin, when I tell you that the big guy standing in front of you with a look of stern consternation will do any and everything for his little boy. Every day Daddy reminds us to think about how lucky we are to have you in our life and how wonderful you are. There are few truths in this world, baby boy, but as we stand humbled and proud of our new role as parents to you, know that there is nothing, nothing, we have ever cherished more.

Love,

Mama