I realize I don’t talk or write quite as much about my daughter as I do my son. This certainly isn’t because I think of her less, or find her less interesting. It’s just that most folks don’t find each gurgle and coo of hers as adorable as I do. But let me tell you about Zee; she’s entrancing.
She is the single most snuggly baby on the planet. She is almost five months old, with hair like Einstein or a rock star. She’s my baby genius rock star. She hardly ever cries, and when she does, it’s always for a good reason. I don’t believe in reincarnation, but when I look in Zee’s eyes, the phrase “old soul” comes to mind. She has a very peaceful, placid look to her. She smiles benevolently upon mankind. She was born mistress of the art of Zen. (I’m not really sure what it is, but I’m pretty sure Zee defines it). I am afraid to take her anywhere near Asia for fear someone will kidnap her and crown her the next Dalai Lama. She’s “like a miniature Buddha, covered in hair,” to quote Ron Burgundy.
When someone picks her up, she just nestles down on their shoulder. She lets people (even other babies) run their fingers through her hair. She doesn’t complain when her toddling cousins yank on it or steal her hair barrettes. She reminds me of a therapy dog. It is impossible to stay stressed or crabby while holding this baby. If I’m stewing about something, and am enjoying my cranky, dramatic state, I stay the heck away from Zee, because she will quickly reduce me to a mellowness before I get the chance to stomp around and bang my pots and pans.
Little babies are so pure and beautiful, it almost physically hurts me to look at them sometimes. Zee is no exception. Some evenings, she’ll open her eyes impossibly wide and just radiate love at me. Her first sentence, starting a couple weeks ago, is “I love you.” She stared up at me, her whole clean heart in her eyes, saying over and over, “Ah wuv you.” It kind of freaked me out. Granted, her first word was “poopoo”, so that brings her down to earth a bit. She also has said “Mommy” and “Daddy” once each, and spent an hour smiling at Silas and saying, “Brudder” at him, while he toddled around and pretended not to care (with a secretly pleased expression on his face). She even said, “Brudder, Ah wuv you,” a couple times. She adores her two-year-old brother, and gazes up at him in awe. She does, however, find it hilarious when he is throwing a tantrum. She laughs and grins from ear to ear. (It is pretty funny).
Well, I’d better get back to tending my hairy Zen baby. Talk to you later!