ramona marilyn,
my oh my how you have bloomed. this past month was my most favorite yet. your personality is becoming so vivid and so you. you’re a ham, independent, and totally aware of your cuteness. you use that to your advantage. you are curious and loud and a bit impatient. you have spunk and determination and cuddles. you love to sit in laps but no one can stop you from going off exploring. you love to be naked. you love to jump in the pool with all your clothes on. you hate when it is hot and you love to eat ice. you absolutely adore your papa. you drink so much water and your favorite toys are books. you mimic sounds and faces and are quickly finding your voice. you stand on your own. you are not a walker but you can most certainly walk.
your “stranger danger” days were short-lived and you are back to gobbling up attention from any of papa’s and mama’s close friends. this is so fine with us until a crazy lady in front of us in line at our favorite vietnamese bakery held out her arms to you and –though your mama made no hint to offer you to her– you DOVE into them. (who asks to hold stranger’s babies, i will never know. she be cray cray. it was awkward.)
nona came to help papa and i beautify our front yard. you love her! she is so good with you and totally gets you: she engages with you but certainly gives you the space your personality seems to require. she loves to watch you toddle around, making your own voices. she gets that you prefer to start the conversation and always would wait patiently until you did. and then how the two of you would gab! you always wanted to talk to her. i think this unique relationship will be so special and rich even though she lives far away.
while she was here we noticed that you learned to dig in the dirt: squatting you would take your hands and fling the dirt behind you through your bent legs. you had watched me do that while digging holes for the russian sage. you ate some of it but you’re almost over the automatically-putting-dirt-in-your-mouth stage. instead, after digging, you sit there and pour handful of dirt after handful of dirt over your already-muddy thighs; your chubby wrist rolls and teeny finger nails caked with dirt.
you still sleep with us most of the night but papa and i have been letting you figure out falling asleep on your own a little more. some nights are better than others–and overall you’re doing great–but we’re feeling the need for change real soon. this is interesting bc we thought we’d be bed-sharing, or at least co-sleeping, for a lot longer.
you are so so incredibly loved. your one year birthday is next month and i’m having so much fun planning the party for it. yes, honey, i am that mother: there will be coordinating decorations and lots of people. but you know what?: there are so many friends and family close to us that, really, are your biggest fans. so we plan to hold a big shebang to celebrate you. and then, after you’ve gone to sleep, we’re gonna stay up and continue celebrating you! get used to it, honey. 😉
ramona marilyn. you are so spirited and spunky and confident and bright and happy. these traits are important in little girls and i pray papa and i can continue to nurture these parts of you so you can continue growing up filled with confidence and, most importantly, joy.
i love you. love, mama.
*see ramona at other months: ten, eight, six, four, two, birth.*
below are some more photos of ramona and me showing off my new rory brinker scarf. i’ve also, it appears, unintentionally included a quasi-pictorial of how i get ramona bean securely in her sakura bloom sling.
(recycled outtakes from our sakura bloom sling diaries exploration.)
my crazy little ramona,
for photos for this shoot, and for mothers day, i had intended on taking you to the woods. i had wanted to take you to the mountains and show you how your papa and i explore. but, alas, the days got away from us as they are wont to do and i was forced to explore other options. and, as i resigned myself to this adventure–thinking what sort of exploring is done in the urban jungle we tread miles in every day?–i was surprised to realize that, yes, in fact there is always much exploring to be done wherever you are at. wherever anyone is at.
explore (and love) where you live. introduce yourself to your neighbors. invite them over for bbqs. play outside with the other kids. frequent and support the local shops. walk the blocks. find new parks. travel by bike trails and follow the river to new places. be an advocate for your community. live where you can do these sorts of things.
explore communication. explore your expression. explore your creative outlets. talk to lots of different people. learn languages. learn music, even if you never learn to play. read books and blogs and magazines and news sources. learn the latest technology but don’t always rely on it. write letters. say what you mean. do not mince your words. always be kind in your speech. never sell yourself out. mean what you say. stay true to your art.
explore food. try everything at least once. don’t be afraid of the weird stuff. find what you like. know what you love.
explore simplicity. live deeply, live fully. you need not a ton of money or resources to do so. in fact, that may hinder you. explore what it means and looks like to live simply. simplicity, in its many forms, opens up a world full of small joys. and you will be richer for it.
explore tradition. respect what others do in their cultures and in their religions and in their families. create your own traditions and rites and rituals, especially when you grow up and have your own family. you don’t ever have to do something just because that’s how it’s “always been done” but understand that how it’s “always been done” is really important to some people.
explore your style. never let anyone tell you how you should look, act, or feel. that is up to you.
explore your fears. i, my dear, am afraid of vomit. and then i had a baby. and i learned i had to get over that. and i did. i am also afraid of small talk. but i have learned that it serves me well in social networking situations, which i find myself in a lot with your papa’s line of work. whaddya know? now i have met some great friends whose friendship started off with some awful sort of small talk where we both had to get over the mostly-ever-present hump of talking about uninteresting things to get to know someone. and long ago i had a great big fear of not being loved. but then i met your papa and allowed him to show me what being loved looked and felt like. and here we all are now. i have not a clue what your fears will be but i urge you to not let them make you feel small.
love, mama.
read other letters to ramona bean over here, here, here, and here.
this post is done in collaboration with sakura bloom. the sling i am wearing is the simple linen in wheat. the beautiful photos are by JP (taken on his trusty iPhone) and were taken out and about in the lower highland of denver.
the hand-painted infiniti scarf i am wearing is a rory brinker, a new company getting started by a dear friend of mine. the tagline for rory brinker is “wear love around” and i am proud to be wearing this scarf around the places that i love. you can also check out more photos of rory brinker scarves on their facebook page.
my sweet ramona bean,
this photo series pretty much sums you up right now: always on the move.
you, my friend, are the light of my life. you shine with energy, charisma, and curiosity. you are a mover and a groover; persistent, strong, determined. you took a slow motion side roll off the front steps today and i was really impressed with your recovery — even with the bloody gums you got. it didn’t seem to faze you and you still are intent on mastering those steps. or gravity. you are tough.
yesterday we went to a new playground and i sat you down on the edge of the sandy play area. it didn’t take you two seconds to figure out you wanted to explore. you were away from my side in a heartbeat and crawled right toward the group of older kids playing. then you made your way to the bottom of the slide and stood there, playing with and eating sand and talking to whoever would listen. i came to get you only when it looked like a bigger child was going to come tearing down the slide. your independence, your fearlessness, astound me.
your noises are becoming more and more varied and pronounced. there’s a sound you make that sounds like “otto” and you use it correctly. sometimes. but we’re still giving you time to figure out what you really want to say.
you discovered dancing. whenever i turn on a record you bounce your body to the music. you do the same for the silly songs i sing you. sometimes the only way i can get your attention is by singing about a spider or a peanut and then you’ll look at me and beam and bounce and clap your hands. you clap and shake and wave and–my favorite–give kisses when asked. it’s amazing.
food finally makes sense to you. pickle spears, yogurt, spicy salsa, eggs, beans, guacamole, vinegar chips, anything really except for fruit. you eat it and seem to enjoy it. it appears this correlates with the appearance of your two top teeth. they give you a little more mastery over the food now that you can chomp it up instead of just gumming it. i love to watch you eat.
papa and you have developed (and continue to develop) an extremely special relationship. he receives the biggest smile from you when he gets home or whenever he walks into the room. you love when he flips you around and roughhouses with you. and he’s the only one that can get you to do that really big laugh of yours. he is the best papa ever. you and i are lucky ladies.
i celebrated my first mothers day this month. you honored it by peeing on my head first thing in the morning (note to self: velcro diapers only have so many uses in them before you can expect to wake up to find your baby standing up against the head of your bed with her diaper half off, pee flowing on your face and pillow). what a riot. that day i held you close and whispered in your ear many times, “thank you for making me a mother.” we really were meant for each other, all three of us.
i love ramona. oh yes, i do. i love ramona. oh yes, it’s true. when you’re not with me i’m blue. oh ramona, i love you.
i love you. love, mama.
*see ramona at other months: nine, seven, five, three, one, birth.*
I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.
that above line is from a book i just ordered and will soon receive from amazon. my mother had it and read it to my brother and i as young children. i couldn’t help but be reminded of it when i went in to check in on ramona last night. she was talking to herself in her sleep and i just had to pick her up and hold her. they say let sleeping babies lie but there was no way i could do that in that moment. i held her and thought of how this time of her in my arms at night is so so so minuscule in the scheme of her life and mine. and though she will grow and our relationship with evolve, i will love her forever; my baby she will always be.
welcome
