Half a year.
Let me repeat myself: HALF. A. YEAR.
I know, it shocks me too. How is it (now, over) half a year since you joined our family? Seriously – where has the time gone?
You were busy between December 16 and January 16. For one, we hopped on a plane and went to Kansas City to see my family for the holidays. Santa visited Grammy Granddad’s house and you slept through, blissfully unaware. You got snuggled and held and passed around and you loved every single minute of it (well, almost). Then, to cap it off, you got your first *real* big-boy haircut. It was an eventful 10 days!
(Notice: beautiful blondish brownish reddish hair no longer falling in handsome baby eyes)
Developmentally, you continue to advance in leaps and bounds (or, more often, flops). While you’ve been able to do a gravity-assisted roll since you were a couple months old, it wasn’t until December 21 (at Great-Grandma’s room!) that you did a real, deliberate, “OK here I go I am going to move onto my back now” roll. And you haven’t stopped since.
Back in LA, we returned to business as usual: lots of singing, lots of dancing, lots of tummy kisses and “Oppa Baby Style” and “Letters to the Editor” and laughing at Mama’s bad Food-Network-Home-Edition narrative voices and snuggling with your puppy and kitty (well supervised, of course). Oh and stories. So many stories.
We’ve been going to Wednesday morning storytime at the library off and on since about September, and those outings have really illustrated how much – and how quickly! – you’re growing. When I see you all day every day it’s easy to lose sight of your development: we notice the big milestones and the tiny ones too, but when we’re in the thick of it it’s hard to see everything add up. But looking around the children’s room at the library once a week, seeing kids about your age gain movement, new babies appear and toddlers grow like weeds, it helps me remember to step back once in a while and really look at what you’re up to, too.
Which is good, because you’re up to a lot. You’re developing quite the determined and opinionated personality, but you still display a lot of that easygoingness, that “what are we doing now? OK, cool.” that you’ve been showing since you were really wee. I really feel for you when you get SO. FRUSTRATED! by your own inability to give voice to your thoughts, or manipulate that one certain loop of the Winkle into your mouth, or pick up an entire stack of blocks without tipping them. It’s rough, I know.
Which is part of the reason I’m so glad that we love babywearing and nursing. Because when the world – even if it’s just the play area of our living room – gets a little too big and overwhelming, it’s so wonderful to scoop you up, snuggle you in, and nurse all your troubles away. There’s really nothing better – for you or for me!
You are wonderful, sir. There’s really nothing more to it.
Off to write a sonnet about your beautiful eyelashes,
As you might’ve noticed, there are some exposure and focus issues with this month’s pictures. My sad little old 18-55 Nikkor lens is dying. Photography-types: any recommendations for what to replace it with?