Dear Atticus, four things that have fascinated you this year

Dear Atticus,

It already feels as if you have been here longer than a year. There are so many things throughout our house that have memories of you. Here are four that you have loved especially this year.

In February and March, you would wake up in the morning and your dad would put you in bed with me before he left for the day. We would nurse and doze for a while, you cozy next to me in your Miracle Blanket burrito. Your eyes were always drawn to the sunlight on the wall as it came through the blinds. You stared at it every morning, fascinated. I liked watching your bright eyes focus on the sunshine and wondering what you were thinking.

Now that we are out of DST, we see those golden bars of sunlight (wording stolen from The Waiting) on weekend mornings once again. We point it out, and you pause momentarily before pulling up on the headboard or throwing yourself at the edge of the bed. You will probably never be interested in the light again, but seeing it on the wall will remind me of those days.

When people ask for important baby supplies, I always tell them to install a fan in every room. This? Is a picture of you smiling at Mr. Fan.

atticus: 6 weeks

Mr. Fan lives in every room of our house except the kitchen, and he is still pretty much your favorite. You love to see Mr. Fan waving at you. When you were wee, you would look for him every time we moved to a new room, and when I would take you next door, you looked at the fans and wondered why they weren’t on. (The neighbors are not as addicted to fans as your parents. Also, your parents were at the point where we would do anything to keep you calm, even having the fans on in freezing cold temperatures.) When we are changing your diaper, turning on Mr. Fan gives us a few precious seconds in which we might possibly get you to be still.

Here you are staring at Mr. Fan again. This one makes me giggle.

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Your granddaddy loved fans, and had them installed in every room. I knew that I was being like him when we also had them installed. I like that you like them, too, because it’s a small thing that connects you to him, even if it’s only in my mind.

There is a large-ish wooden pig who lives in our kitchen. Your Aunt B gave him to us, and I am not really a wooden pig person, but your dad loves the pig. So the pig lives in our kitchen on a shelf and makes your dad happy. Sometimes we put sunglasses on him and make him look cool. Mostly he just lives on that shelf and stares down at us imperiously. Or as imperiously as a pig can, anyway. Pigs have short legs.

What’s new to us is that the pig makes you happy, too. You point and ooh at him from the floor, and keep your eyes on him as we walk through the kitchen. Sometimes we get him down so you can play with him. He’s a little too heavy for you, but you love to bang on his side. What is it about the pig that fascinates you? I wish I knew. When you are bigger, we will get him down when we read Charlotte’s Web and call him Wilbur. Maybe he will live in your room. And even though I am not a wooden pig person, I now have some serious affection for that little guy.

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I finally hung your dinosaur picture that our church friend painted for you. We had it sitting on a shelf in your room for a while, but one weekend, in a fit of activity, I hung it on the wall. I am going to confess that this is the first time that I have ever hung something on the wall by myself. Usually your dad and I do that together. I sketch out what we want and do all the measurements and he actually makes the holes in the wall. But this time, I did it on my own. I have been so glad that I did, because moving it to the wall by the closet made it your new favorite thing in your room. You can’t stop looking and pointing at it, and you constantly want to be picked up so you can see it. It makes me so happy to see how you love it being there in your room. We say dinosaur and triceratops to you every time, and sometimes you make sounds back that sound kind of like dinosaur. You haven’t had your first word yet, but I am pretty sure it’s not going to be mama, so I am rooting for dinosaur.

Another church friend gave me the most awesome dinosaur pop-up book last year. You are too small for it, but I showed it to your cousin Henry when he was here visiting a few weeks ago. Henry loved it so much. It made me excited to show it to you, too.

Like I said, it is hard to believe how many household items already have Atticus-memories imprinted upon them. You are everywhere and into everything. You love shiny bowls and tupperware and balls and lights and Daddy’s iPhone, but when we thought about what your favorite things had been this year, these are the four that stood out.

Love,
Mama

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