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Spawn of Griffith | Dear Jack ... (volume one)

Dear Jack ... (volume one)

Saturday March 25, 2006 | by Dalia Griffith | 0 comments

You’re six weeks old tomorrow, and as I write this, you’re squirming through another session of “tummy time.” Your doc says subjecting you to this will encourage you to strengthen your neck muscles, but the significance seems lost on you as it’s obvious you’re hating nearly every minute of it. But I won’t turn you over until you get REALLY pissed off, which is gonna happen any time, now.

Whoops, there we go—hold on …

OK, you’re on your back, but it’s clear you’re still pretty ticked at me for forcing you to endure yet another indignity. You’ll thank me when you’re sixteen, and you can look all those cute highschool chicks in the eye rather than stare limply at their shoes.

You just started smiling in response to us about two weeks ago. It’s still pretty sporadic, but it does happen and even though this will probably sound cheesy, it’s absolutely the joy of our lives to see you happy. It’s a good thing, too, because you’re also going through a major fussy period that’s kinda freaking us out. Not in a “we’re mad at you” way, but in a “we don’t know what’s wrong so we don’t know how to help” way. You just get yourself so worked up that it takes every last resource we have to calm you down.

What it comes down to, though, is that you want to be held at all times. And while holding you is our favorite thing to do by far, it’s simply impossible to do it every second of the day, especially now that both of us are working again. So I’ve taken to strapping you into a baby sling so you can be with me while I’m working—or doing anything else—which seems to be a compromise you find acceptable. And while this arrangement is sucking the life out of my back, I’ll be the first to swear it’s worth the sacrifice to maintain a peaceful and content Jacky.

Overall, though, you continue to give our lives meaning like we never thought possible. Another corny sentiment, I know, but there’s really no other way to describe what it’s like to be your parents. Probably the only thing that comes close for me is watching your Dad’s eyes light up whenever he’s with you. It’s clear you’re the love of his life, and it’s during those times I feel the most proud to be his wife, and your Mom.