Sunday, September 30, 2007
Friday you turned six months old. A whole half year! We celebrated by going for a long walk in our neighborhood, crackling our way through the newly fallen leaves and watching the sunset maples begin their transformation into deep red.
It is hard for me to monitor the subtle changes in you. I find that I wake up one morning and it seems there was a monumental milestone that was passed in your sleep which I missed (which is amazing given how little sleep you continue to let your daddy and I get). Now it is the teeth. Two of them. Slowly making their way through your gums, and causing a bit of grumpiness on your part, not that I blame you.
This month has also heralded the introduction of the shriek. You love to babble, babble, babble, shriek (wash, rinse, repeat, ad nauseaum), especially at around 5:00 a.m. Daddy and I already find ourselves whispering, "Inside voice. Shhh... Inside voice," to which you give us one of your classic Dick Cheney grins, which roughly translated means, "I can understand you, but I'll still do it my way." Forcing me to lean over and whisper in your ear, "Barak Obama in 2008!" over and over again as I hide your elephant toy in the bottom of the toy basket.
Anothe big item on your daily agenda...toe sucking. You have found your toes, and lo, they are good. It's getting a little chillier at night and I valiantly try to put socks on your tiny feet, only to find that they are everywhere except your feet when I come back into the room. You, sadly, have inherited your mommy's cold hands and feet, and I already am obsessing about how to keep those feet warm this winter. That's your 'ole mom...a worrier to the bone.
Which brings up this little item...rolling over. You know, boy, you're six months now and I think it's about time. Your getting close to passing a normal range for this important "developmental milestone," as the baby books say. You have mastered the squirm, and can scoot yourself in a thousand different directions, but the actual rolling over, not so much. Your doctor doesn't seem that concerned as you're doing everything else pretty much on schedule, and as you were born three weeks early, but I must tell you that the word "lazy" has been bantered about in some circles, no pressure, I'm just sayin'... Your father, ever the calm one, keeps reminding me that you probably think lying on your stomach is overrated and you're simply making a conscious choice, perhaps a protest of "developmental milestones." Regardless, please work on this, as it'll make your mama feel better.
This afternoon I found you playing peek-a-boo with the animals on the Baby Noah DVD. You laughed yourself silly when the panda puppet smiled at you. You giggled wildly when the lion danced to the safari song. I could only marvel at the ways in which you already have figured out this simple game. You never tire of peek-a-boo, playing it whenever and wherever you can...cloth spit rag always poised at the ready to pull it up over your eyes and then coyly move it down, a light in your eyes.
I adore you. Happy half year!