Dear Banks...

You're 6 months old. And every month of you makes our family feel more whole. We love your around-the-clock cuddles & the way you meet our eyes when we call your name. A smile always follows. Your smile reaches your eyes. And reveals small dimples in your cheeks. Some of my favorite moments with you are when I stare into your big brown eyes and watch them squint with a smile until they're just littles slits atop the chubbiest cheeks. Your cheeks make you friends everywhere you go.

You're the newest member of the Darcie fan club. You search the room and crane your neck when you hear your sister nearby. As if you're preparing for whatever she's got in store for you. You save your biggest smiles for her. You're surprisingly tolerant of her sometimes rough methods of affection. She likes to give you your pacifier, tell you "no cy baby" when you're sad, steal your toys when you're happy, and hold you in an awkward fashion & only on her terms. I anticipate the future of your relationship being tricky and totally awesome.

You love being worn. I'm thankful because we're on the go a lot. Since being born, you've gone strawberry picking, blueberry picking, pumpkin picking, and apple picking -- all while snuggled on mama's chest. The seasons are flying by and you're getting bigger with each one. But with every new adventure, we realize more and more how perfectly you fit right in. Right into our arms. Right into our hearts. Right into the family chaos. Right into the rhythms of the Rothwell life. The little Banks-sized piece we were always missing. The piece we sometimes take for granted because you are so quiet and inquisitive and forgiving and resilient.

At the beginning, I admit we would forget you were there! I blame exhaustion. Or your big sister. Or your temperment. You were content. Calm. We'd go about our business and suddenly: "oh yeah!! we have two now!" You'd kindly remind us of your tiny presence with tiny coos that quickly had all of us hovered around you, exercising our best and most annoying baby voices. You would attentively watch us, like you were trying to learn the Rothwell ropes in this big new world.

our first photo as a family of four

We struggled for a few months in mastering sleep. It was hard. And you fought us with a will so strong I was alarmed. You are stubborn, but your parents are just as much. Your dad would tell you during your crying fits, "you've met your match, Banksy." He named your middle-of-the-night bouts of screaming your "90 minute rebellion." But in the end, we won. And we understand all over again the delicate nature of childhood. The briefness of every phase even though they seem like they're endless. The theft of time. Here we are... so proud of you for learning how to fall asleep without our help. But also aware of an ache -- a yearning for those maddening & beautiful long hours of shooshing & rocking & feeling so needed & wanted. The answer to your restlessness. The key to your rest. Thank you for working with us, forgiving us, and cooperating with us. We all learned so much. And I can say you are finally, finally, finally sleep trained. I'll only need 2 years of therapy but I won't hold it against you.... ;)

You have many nicknames. Baby B, Bansky, Bansky Boo, Banky (daddy only), Queen B, Bankers (courtesy of uncle Landon), Baby Sisser (creative credit to Darcie James), Boinks, Banksy-Love, and the one your Nana so appropriately gave to you: Flopsy. Because you flop around as you're passed around and melt into whoever is holding you. Like you're just here for the snuggles. You haven't had a lot of interest in testing out new tricks like rolling or crawling...you like to people watch and gnaw on toys and be held by mama and be outside in the fresh air. But don't worry, I won't rush you. Take your time, sweet love. You'll learn the way. Just like you learned how to sit up. And I watched you focus with all your might on staying balanced. I laughed during playdates at the park where you tried not to fall over with every small gust of wind.

Sitting is now your favorite position for your favorite pastime: sister watching. You love to sit on the floor and play with the leftover toys Darcie gives you as she floats around in a land of make believe. I'd like to think she's giving you a lesson on how to imagine and dream. And that you're paying attention. So you'll be ready to take your place in her world of stories when the time is right. I also wonder how long you'll be okay with her toy-snatching, and if your temperament will always prefer others over yourself.  There's so much yet to be discovered. But this I know: you're an old soul. A mild soul. A kind soul.

You bring our family joy. You teach us lessons about grace & gentleness & sharing & persistence & presence. You make us wonder what the future will look like. You make us laugh at what today looks like because even when I'm tired with dirty clothes, dirty hair, and a dirty house... you are my "why" right now. And everything else can wait. You are the "who" that I want to know. And everyone else can wait.

So I'm thankful I know the details of Banks Felicity Rothwell. Like how you pull bows off your head, aggressively rub your eyes when you're tired, squeak when daddy sings to you as if to make it a duet, and how you reach for mama with everything you've got -- accompanied by the most pitiful whine. And in this moment, at 6 months old... I'll remember you as a sleep machine, a smile factory, a hand nommer, a toe grabber, a forgiving little sister. You love pears & sweet potatoes & bedtime stories & talking to yourself in your bed after naps with a tiny raspy voice that DJ hears and shouts "baby sisser UP!"

Happy half birthday, little one. You've ALWAYS belonged. I see you showing us just how much with every passing day. Thanks for being one of us. You're a natural at it.

xo,
mama



A video documenting your first 48 hours....