Happy Birthday Dear Jubilee

Dear Jubilee Claire,

Right now you are walking toward me, holding a milk jug, smiling your unique 3.25- toothed grin. Your sturdy shoes make the cutest “clomp clomp” sound on the floors, and your happy screech is so delightful I don’t mind that it might wake Zephyr up from his nap. You snuggle up in my lap for a nurse and start humming after you latch on. Only a moment or two passes before you’re ready to go again, laughing an inhaling laugh as you wiggle from my arms.

It has been one short year, but, as with all babies in their first year, the changes you’ve made are tremendous! I look at the picture from last Christmas of you, floppy and unfocused, precariously planted on Zephyr’s lap. You both look like you’re not quite sure what to make of your presence in our family. We hardly knew you then, but we all found you fascinating.

To be honest, you weren’t the baby I thought you would be. For some reason I thought my second baby would be the baby who wanted nothing more than to ride in the sling all day. In my fantasy, I would hear a little sniffle, which meant you wanted to nurse. I’d latch you on, you’d nurse for great lengths of time, and drift back off to sleepy dreamland. And of course, you’d understand that nighttime was for longer periods of sleep, with a few nursing sessions thrown in for good measure.

And daytime was something like that. But for some reason, when darkness fell, you became miserable. Your Dada and I would take turns pacing the house holding you. For months, you would fall asleep only to the sound of the vacuum cleaner at night- then the white noise machine on high. Night after night I would hold you as you screamed, wondering what I was doing wrong. During the day, you were bright and cheerful. It is still a mystery to me. I wished you could have told me how to fix your unhappiness.

Gradually, you grew used to our rhythms. I am so glad nighttime feels safe to you now. Those first few months seem like such a short little blur of time now, but then, they felt infinite. Perspective is hard to maintain when it comes to life with a newborn.

I remember one of my favorite games to play with you when you were a few months old. I named it “Jubilee Up.” (Maybe when I have more sleep my game-naming will get more creative!) Saying “Jubilee up,” I’d pull you to a stand and shower you with kisses. Then I’d slowly lower you to your back, saying “Jubilee down.” We always played this alone in the bedroom when Zephyr and Dada were busy with something else. It’s been hard to find one-on-one time with you, and it just filled my heart to be able to focus on each other.

A couple months ago, Dada made the comment that you didn’t seem to like books as much as Zephyr did at your age. It seemed like you must have understood him and set out to prove him wrong! You are paging through books as often as not these days, and a week ago, you started pointing at the pages and “talking” in a new way. Maybe that’s your reading voice! Besides books, you also love Happy (although you aren’t sure if you like it when he notices you back!), kicking balls, lifting your shirt for us to blow raspberries on your tummy, smiling at yourself in mirrors, and sticking your hands in our water glasses. Climbing up on chairs and dancing is another favorite activity. Especially if it’s the rocking chair. Is it any wonder we call you Danger Baby?

I love the way you say “yes” by bouncing your whole body up and down. I love the way you give us open-mouth baby kisses when we ask. I love the way you know several signs, but they all pretty much mean the same thing to you- I want. I love the satisfied look on your face when you accomplish something that took a lot of effort- like climbing next to your brother on the couch with a book, so you could do what he was doing. I love your soft round rum-tum-tummy and your dimpled “Jubi booty.” You are determined, strong, and vocal. May these traits serve you well in the coming years.

I feel in many ways that you are my karma. When I gave my mother a hard time, she would forgive me, saying “One day, you’ll have a daughter, too” in the gentlest way possible. I want to hold you close to my heart for as long as I can. Waking up and watching your sleeping face is one of my greatest joys. I love everything about you, baby Jubi. Happy Birthday.

So much love,
Mommy