Friday, April 25, 2014

The one about Emma

 My sweet Emma. My saving grace in so many ways. Small confession - I never actually thought I wanted a daughter. I know, right. Sure it would be fine, but I have three brothers; what the heck would I do with a girl?

But 2 years ago there I was holding this sweet little doll of a baby and not even realizing what a total gift she was. Now, truth be told, Emma was not immediately the cutest baby I had ever seen. Sure she was cute, because she was mine, but we weren't winning any newborn beauty contests by any stretch of the imagination. Does that sound harsh? It feels a little harsh. Anyway, she had an incredibly fast delivery that left her face swollen and bruised-looking. I always say she was uncomfortable making me uncomfortable. "I'm sorry Mommy, I'll make this as quick as possible.....Oh, did that hurt? Is this an inconvenience? Well let me just get out of here as fast as I can." That's pretty much Emma in a nutshell.

Not only was her delivery over in about two pushes, but she was like the least fussy baby in the world - which was very strange for me. I remember she would just sit in her little bouncer and watch everything that was going on, or stare at the ceiling, or her hands, or nothing at all. She would just wait around until someone decided to hold her, or feed her, or put her to bed. God bless her. I didn't even know babies did that. I remember people telling me babies did that, but I knew the truth. I had one son and he did ANYTHING but sit still, ever. Never ever. I just assumed that's what I could expect from baby number two. Naturally, I was terrified slightly nervous.

But then there was Emma. My quiet, content observer. I've never been so happy to be wrong.

Nowadays Emma has quite a bit more to say. She is after all in those terrific! twos (bleh). What she says is not always my favorite, but I'll tell you what is.....the way she says it. Her voice might be the cutest thing that has ever existed. I could seriously bottle it up and drink it.

Side note - some people feel really strange about making eating references when discussing children, i.e. "He's so cute I could just eat him" or "I want to chew on those chubby little hands." BUT if you have ever just been beyond words about something (particularly a child), you know what I mean! And it's not weird! 

Anyway, Emma has this tiny little girl voice that I can't even describe. It's almost without fail the one thing people mention when they first meet her. I know she will grow out of it eventually (at least I hope so, for her sake), but right now I just want her to sing me the ABC's, or tell me her Bible verse, or read stock reports, anything. Don't tell her, but sometimes I pretend not to hear her just so she'll have to repeat herself. :) Somehow, "poopy-butt" sounds so sweet coming out of her mouth. Uggh, that reminds me. Can I just take a minute to say this is one of my least favorite annoyances of this age? Anything having to do with the words "poop" or "butt" is HILARIOUS to them. Sometimes they decide to throw out letters of the alphabet and replace them with said choice mid song. You know like, "A B C D E F...poopy-butt!" And then they crack up laughing because they think it is the funniest thing that anyone has ever done. I say it's annoying. Except when Emma does's the voice! Ugh, I'm such a bad mom!

Which actually brings me to my next point. I think the most surprising thing about Emma right now is how GOOFY she is. Ok, so I know I was like all gaga about how awesomely low key she was as a baby, but it also had it's draw backs. She was so chill, but it made her kind of serious and some might say...uninteresting? Emma, if you're reading this 10-20 years from now, know that I have ALWAYS been interested in you. I'm just saying some people (Uncle Ryan) liked to hang out with more active babies, and were maybe a little worried you wouldn't have a sense of humor. Not to throw anyone under the bus. How wrong they were my little poopy-butt.

She just says interesting and weird things that were probably always in her head, but now she's learning how to express herself. Yesterday she told me my hair smelled good and then said, "Let's eat it!" She finished the conversation off with a maniacal laugh and walked away. What? Although now that I think about it, I bet she totally gets the baby/consumption association.

Or let's talk about the way she says, "Hello world," in a dreamy voice every time I open her blinds in the morning. Straight up princess yo. It makes me laugh EVERY time.

Of course amidst all of her delightful qualities (unbiasedly observed of course) Emma also presents us with her own challenges. Like the fact that she refuses to be potty-trained. I was not expecting that. Everybody told me that potty training girls was soooo much easier than training boys. And since Rowan was potty trained at 2.5 after about the same amount of tries, I figured my easy peasy girl would knock it out at 2 on the first try. Wrong. You win some, you lose some I guess.

You know, I've been meaning to write this post for awhile. Emma's birthday, after all, was in March. I just haven't had the energy/mental capacity to sit down and do it. But by lunch this afternoon, I knew today would be the day.

We had a particularly rough day in the DeLuca home today. A couple boys who shall remain nameless were particularly rowdy, defiant, restless/fussy, clingy, helpless...respectively. I'll let you decide who was who. It all came to a head at lunch. I was trying to talk Rowan down from a world-ending tantrum about no one eating his applesauce while also trying to keep him in time out without destroying his room (the reason for time out also involved said applesauce). We were sitting on his bed when my gentle giant started screaming and trying to crawl into my lap. He doesn't like yelling. Within a matter of moments I was trying to keep Rowan from flailing his body into the wall, myself or Joseph and at the same time trying to keep our screaming baby from crawling into my lap - which was within the flail radius.

It was at this moment I realized that the entire time Emma had been sitting in the kitchen by herself, quietly eating Rowan's applesauce. Don't worry, she was allowed to eat Rowan's applesauce, he had emptied hers on the floor mid-tantrum. Anyway the point is, at that moment I was very thankful for and grateful to my sweet and quiet observer. Maybe you have to have the day that I did to appreciate that simple act of obedience, but she spoke more love to me in that moment than a hundred hugs and kisses would have. And that's when I knew today was her blog day. Because even though every day is not "Emma's the bomb" day, today was. I want to remember it; I want her to remember it; and I especially want her to know that I noticed. You are loved my sweet Emma Rose, and I hope one day you are blessed enough to have a daughter who is just like you. <3