I know your dad has already begun a journal of sorts for you, but I already have this blog and I may as well write in it, right? Three months late. :) Or months or years late, if you want to take into account how long I've had this and how long it's been since I wrote in it.
Today seems like an auspicious day to start up again since it was the day of your baby blessing. I read somewhere once that in Bali (I think), babies are carried by their parents for the first 180 days of their lives, no part of them ever never touching the ground. They aren't named and are simply kept alive, carefully. It isn't until the end of that 180 day period that they are celebrated with a grand party, given names and allowed to touch the earth, the rationale being that if a child that young was to die, it belonged to the gods anyway, not to their human community on earth. Once that period of limbo passes, the babies then belong to their families and are tied to the land. While I wouldn't ever say you belonged to the gods at pretty much any point past the moment you left my womb, I thought it a good parallel to begin writing to you today, the day you were celebrated and officially "sent off" onto your great journey of life. Plus, several local people I admire (Lara, Princess Lasertron, your dad of course) write monthly letters to their babies and I want that record for you, too!
We aren't religious. We both grew up Catholic but left the church for varying reasons, the explanations of which I'm sure you'll be subjected to throughout your life. I feel more spiritual-agnostic, personally, and I think your dad feels the same (although he'll gruffly say he's atheist-agnostic. Get a drink in him and he'll soften up). Regardless, we both felt it was right to have some sort of ceremony officially welcoming such an amazing addition to our lives--you-- and speaking to the hopes we have for and promises we make to you as your parents. Plus, it made your Grandma Magnuson really happy to have something slightly resembling a baptism. ;) So we planned this totally personalized, non-traditional gig with secular readings, a Beatles song, a pagan ritual, Christian oil to rub on your body, and invited lots of people who love you.
It was great. It was a beautiful, cool and sunny fall day out. I filled your tummy ahead of time so you'd be content and quiet throughout. You wore this ADORABLE hand-woven jumper and booties we bought in Guatemala in 2009 (we figured we'd have a baby someday). Your grandma and great-grandma Magnuson made some little hors d'oevres and I bought cupcakes and pumpkin whoopie pies from my friend Joni. Your Mimms (Grandma Lawson, just in case that nickname doesn't stick) listened to the ceremony via Skype; unfortunately, the video feature wasn't working. What can you expect from a free service, right? Several of our closest friends came, some with their own babies. Everyone spoke some words of blessing or wishes for you, and wove a ribbon onto a wreath for you to represent their sentiments. And we, your mom and dad, were humbled and pleased to find ourselves surrounded by people gathered there for a common purpose-- to show love and honor to our greatest joy, our first child, our unbelievably perfect boy. You.
Welcome to this life, Ethan. You're going to love it.
I was chasing baby Grace around during the ribbon tying, but I wanted to say that I hope you take the time to play as much as you possibly can. There will be plenty of chances to work in life, so for now just concentrate on dreaming and cavorting. I hope I'm always close by to make sure you do :)
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