June Harbor Shippy: Month #4
Happy 4 months, my love! For this 4 month kind of celebration, you get to be surrounded by lots of family tonight, as it is also Christmas Eve!
Lots of merry and exciting happening this 24th of December.
This fourth month of your life has been so special, Baby Girl.
Your mama has always adored the anticipation and festive of the days and weeks leading up to Christmas Day, and this year was absolutely no exception!
Month #4 brought Thanksgiving dinners, your Aunt Reagan’s birthday, your MeMaw and Papa’s 30th wedding anniversary party, Uncle Atticus graduating with his masters, Christmas at Grammy and Grandpa’s, and so many other holiday activities that allowed for so much sweet family time.
As I was talking to your daddy about what to include in this month’s letter, I was also sorting through some pictures from the past month to include in this post. A couple of months ago I had realized how there were significantly more candid shots of you and your daddy and you and your grandparents and you and Raquel than there were of me and you. The reason being I’m usually the one taking those sweet shots, so I encouraged The Shippmate to be a bit more intentional about snapping some candid “everyday” moments of me and you.
As I looked through our phones and camera, much to my disappointment, I found just about zero of this happening again.
Which might have caused me to be slightly annoyed at your daddy for a brief bit tonight lol.
Funny enough, any time I get annoyed at him or when I’m trying to talk “serious” to him about things like putting towels in the hamper–not on your Pack’N'Play– you find the whole thing so comical. No kidding– he’ll be holding you in his chair, and I’m trying to address the given situation, and you will just sit there and smile SO big– as if us bickering is rather enjoyable to you. The whole thing results in all of us laughing, which your dad is overly thankful for.
Anyway, so this evening as I was annoyed to see there had been no improvement in the “take some candid shots of Mom and June” department, I picked you up to feed you and realized something.
First of all, no matter the situation, there is something so perfectly relaxing and de-stressing and wonderful about having you in my arms feeding you.
It’s the absolute best.
I’m so very and exponentially thankful for sticking with breastfeeding even when it was hard and painful and full of mastitis lol. It was truly and sincerely worth every bit of it.
Second of all, I realized that while your dad hasn’t quite remembered to try to take some candid shots of us… really– the best moments I want to remember always… those aren’t exactly “capturable.”
The precious looks you give me while you’re eating? No one can photograph those.
The look you make when something startles you a bit and you’re searching for my eyes to comfort you? No photographer can be ready for that millisecond of a moment.
The way you’ve started to pull off the breast while eating just to smile at me and then kind of “dive” back into your dinner? There will be no photographic evidence of that moment.
The look you give me when I’m in tears and annoyed or stressed or frustrated and you just kind of survey my face like, “What’s wrong, Mommy? I’m here and I love ya…” There just isn’t a way to capture that look.
The look you give me when you first wake up in the morning? I can’t have a camera ready to capture that little alert and EXCITED FOR YOUR DAY smile. How I love waking up to that look, my June.
The concentration and persistence I see (SO MUCH LATELY) in your eyes when I talk to you and you’re trying so very hard to study and memorize and learn what my mouth and lips are doing and how yours can do the same? Just can’t quite photograph it.
These moments– these precious, precious moments, June– they’re just between me and you.
And I’m in tears typing this, because something about the sacred and exclusive of them being just between us makes me so crazy honored to be your mommy.
I don’t know how many times a day I say to your dad, “Hurry! Come look at how she’s looking at me!!”
Often while you’re eating or we’re just talking up close while I’m changing your diaper, and by the time he gets over to us– even when he’s super quick– the moment or look isn’t quite there anymore.
These exclusive little moments and looks we share, June? It’s the beginning of something great. Something wonderful and special and beautiful– it’s our bond and relationship as mother and daughter, and it’s growing and developing daily.
In between candid snaps of a picture on my iPhone.
In between time you spend with Daddy, your grandparents, or anyone else.
It’s just for me and you.
And while part of me loves the thought of having every little moment with you captured, I also love that some of the most special and sacred moments of all… they’re just for me.
Forever and always etched in my heart. They’ll never be uploaded to Facebook. They won’t make your monthly letter, but oh my June– they’re such a part of me that I’ll always be able to tell you of them.
I won’t forget the way you smile at me while you’re eating. Or the way you smirk at me when I’m annoyed at your daddy.
As you grow older you’ll understand more and more that your mom is the lifeline to your memories. She knows them all. She remembers the precious and the big ones alike.
Because June– you’re my girl. You’re so much a part of me that sometimes I can’t believe I’ve only known you 4 months today.
Happy 4 months, my baby.
No pictures in this month’s letter, June. When you’re grown and reading this letter and want to “see” a glimpse of 4 month old June Harbor Shippy– call me. Or text me.
I’ll tell you all about the memories and moments and little looks of your 4 month old self that will forever decorate the very walls of my heart.
I love you. Always and forever, Junebug.