Weight: 15.2 pounds (30th percentile)
Height: 27 inches (90th percentile)
Army Crawls. Rolls both directions. Starting to eat solid foods. Gets up twice a night. Curious about everything. Cat napper. Loves walks. Loves the park. Loves Thumbelina. Goes to bed at 8pm. Daddy’s Girl.
Seven o’clock AM.
A little voice comes over the monitor, sitting in its place on my neatly kept nightstand.
I know that little voice.
I try to open my eyes and welcome in the new day.
I peek into her room and see my little one wrapped up in Daddy’s arms.
She stares into his big eyes, reaching to touch his scruffy face.
She catches a glimpse of me and starts to grunt for food.
I am the milk machine, walking on two feet.
Before we change, I unzip the sleepy beauty from her bag.
She is free.
Brookie likes her bag, all snug and warm.
Now it is time to feed, all close and cuddly on the couch.
I love these moments.
We bid farewell to Daddy, as he heads off for another day.
A kiss. A hug. A family prayer.
Now the day has just begun.
We catch a glimpse of Curious George or the news.
I am starting to like cartoons again.
Brooke lies down to play on her bright green rug.
I find a moment to clean the counter or sweep the floor.
I find her over by the floor vents, or army crawling on the hardwood floor.
I call out her name and she looks up at me with her sweet smile.
She has made my day.
I hear her voice.
My “mini me” calls out for Mommy.
We go upstairs to do a chore.
There are always toilets, laundry or dusting on the list.
Brooke likes to help with household things.
Except vacuuming.
Ten o’clock AM.
Time for Brookie’s snack.
I strap her in her chair. She thinks she is big. I can see it on her face.
Applesauce, Sweet Potatoes and Rice Cereal.
She likes to feed herself.
She is a big mess.
It is bathtime.
I let her play and splash for a while.
I have more fun watching than she does playing.
I towel her off and then play dress up.
She smells all yummy, I could eat her.
By now she is tired and ready for a nap.
Snuggles. Whispered Sweet Nothings. Lullaby.
Twelve o’clock PM.
We go outside. Find something fun to do.
Brooke loves her stroller, seeing new things.
She must be a nature girl at heart.
She likes grandma’s house. There are fun toys there and people too.
She likes the store.
She has a fear of missing out. She is a social butterfly.
She must be Mommy’s girl.
Two O’clock PM.
I lay down to catch some Z’s while Brooke takes her afternoon nap.
Ahh, just what I need.
Then to tidying up or preparing food.
There just isn’t enough time to do it all.
We play games on the floor.
Brooke likes my company.
I think I like hers even more though.
Five o’clock PM.
I hear the garage door.
Brooke smiles big when he walks inside.
Best Friends. Daddy’s Girl.
They play and giggle while I finish dinner.
Brooke insists on eating with us at the table.
Eight O’clock PM
Eight O’clock PM
Brookie starts getting fussy.
Upstairs we go. Time to rock.
A primary song. A book from the shelf.
Into her bag she goes again.
As she drifts to sleep, I stare at my little one.
So quiet and still. She looks like an angel.
I think of her first days. I dream of her future years.
I am her Mommy.
I will always love her.
I wish I could hold her close forever.
Snuggle her to sleep. Play peekaboo.
Kiss her gently and wipe her crocodile tears away.
I know these moments won’t last forever. So I treasure them.
Motherhood.
I am lucky I got this job.















