Clearly, Mommy is not so great at keeping up with this new monthly obligation, so we're "improvising" here. It's a good word. Sometimes you just gotta hustle and flow.
You've grown so much, both physically and developmentally. At your 6 month checkup in April (how did that happen so fast?), you measured 17 pounds 11 ounces and you hit all the developmental marks with flying colors. Reach for objects? Check. Grasp items and pass between hands? Double check. Make eye contact, laugh, giggle? Holy cow CHECK.
Speaking of laughing and giggling, it's your full-time job. You have the most perfect, joyous smile. It's remarkable and omnipresent.
You eat solids now, up to 3x day. And you will, NO DOUBT, eat us out of house and home soon. You love food. Luuuurve. Bibs generally are clean at the end of the meal.
You have learned to roll and it's your life mission to stay on your tummy at all costs. You take this mission seriously. I admire your persistence.
You laughed for the first time. It was your sister who made you laugh with a funny face. I will always remember that moment. I was standing in the kitchen, you were in your highchair, and your sister was playing with you after your meal. It was lovely. You clearly exist in this world for each other.
You are solid muscle. Thick, strong legs and a wicked solid core that whips your legs around like it's nothing. I suspect you'll be crawling soon. And then likely move right onto sprinting.
You eat more than the average 6 month old. A lot more. Oy.
There are so many moments when I see your father in you. Your smile. How you fall asleep on your side with your hands curled up by your face. Your insanely easy going attitude. How bright and curious you are. It's a wonderful thing to behold.
You still spit up. Kind of all the time. Our water bill has skyrocketed since your arrival with all the bib and blanket washing.
I've seen you spit your pacifier across the room. It's a remarkable talent.
Now that you've figured out what those hands are for, you can't keep them off of stuff. Constantly reaching for the closest object to play with, pull, tug, twist, flip, throw, and onto the next. We've dug toys out of the basement that your sister barely glanced at, but can occupy you for a good 30 minutes.
Recently, you like to get up in the middle of the night. Can't tell if it's teething (likely no, says the peds), diapers, or just plain boredom with sleep. But there are days like today when I wonder if you're just torturing us for kicks and giggles.
On a related note, your dad and I drink a lot of coffee.
You have remained close friends with the three dozen or so pacifiers we have invested in and attempted to scatter throughout our lives. A paci will generally solve almost any fussiness you have. Generally. With that said, you rarely fuss.
You're now strong enough to almost sit up on your own. You're getting close, but not quite there. It's coming soon. I think you'll like the new discovery.
You love fruit. You hate green beans and peas. HATE.
I miss you when you're away from my side. I miss you during the day. I miss you at night. I tend to look at your pictures whenever I can. It makes me feel better.
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