Oh Susannah,
Yesterday, you turned six months old.
This is crazypants.
It’s sometimes hard to believe that you did not even exist until your Dad and I said to each other, “You know what? This Kid Thing is so awesomely fun that we should have another, and then the fun will never ever have to stop, not even once.”
A few things have happened between then and now, such as you grew fingernails and blood cells and simply wild amounts of blonde hair. Your sister figured out that high-pitched noises make you laugh like a loon. And food, as Nora would put it, Is A Very Good Friend.
During this half of a year (very recently, in fact), you’ve started to express pleasure and recognition and sheer joy by waving. Not just a simple salute, mind you. Nor is it a coquettish wiggle of fingers. Your wave is a forceful acknowledgement and request for attention, starting with the hinge of your shoulder and ending with your splayed fingers.
You’re no shrinking violet. I like that.
Suzy, we like everything about you. Including all eight million of your names.
A long time ago- way back before you were even the gleam of a second baby and, in fact, Nora was barely a realized first baby- your Dad and I were at a Magnetic Fields concert. (It was great, by the way. You should see them sometime.) Then, for no particular reason whatsoever, I leaned over to your father during a quiet moment and whispered- “I like the name Susannah if we have another girl.” He leaned back. “Can Mae be her middle name?” “Sure. That’s pretty.”
BOOM. Named.
It also helped that we had fallen really, really in love with James Taylor’s version of your eponymous song.
Your nicknames- Suzy and Zuzu- are even more whimsical. Back in the mid-80s, there were two things that I liked a ton. (Okay, there were a bunch, but for the sake of time, let’s just call it two): My set of Suzy’s Zoo stationary and Tesla’s album Mechanical Resonance, featuring the song “Little Suzi.” (What kind of little kid were you, you’re wondering? One with multiple penpals and a drummer godfather who liked to gift me awesome hair metal. That kind.)
And Zuzu comes from “It’s A Wonderful Life’s” Zuzu Bailey, the little kid with all the petals. (Factoid- that movie makes all men cry. I’ve seen not only your Dad well up, but also your uncles and both grandfathers, too. That’s a movie.)
And so we gave you all of these monikers, knowing that you’d grow into some and outgrow others…and maybe even come up with a few of your own. That’s totally cool.
I can’t wait to see what kind of name you’ll become.
I think you’ll be a bit of a hippie (like your father). You already exude this sense of peace and subtle mirth, like- It’s all going to be fine, it’s actually really funny, isn’t it? Let’s have some more applesauce.
Or maybe you just really like your applesauce.
Either way, I hope that no one ever takes advantage of your easygoing nature- and that you never let them. The world is too wonderful to settle for someone else’s mediocre plans.
The other day, as Nora was attempting to kneel on your chest and touch your eyelids, you grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and dragged her head to your mouth. The shriek you let out didn’t indicate pain, didn’t show exhaustion, and wasn’t a cry of sadness.
It was a battle cry of- STOPPIT. (And oh, how it worked.)
So I think you’ll be just fine. Because, really, it’s the Slow Boils that everyone’s gotta watch out for.
Especially if they have killer pale blue eyes like you do.
Come to think of it, maybe I should watch out for you, too.
I love you to the moon (and back), Buttercup-
Your Mom.
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