My sweet little pea,
On Sunday you turned six months old. I might have shed a few tears about it at breakfast, as you scarfed down a huge bowl of mangos and rice cereal. Just like that, you're a baby who eats real food and moves across the floor. It's kind of surreal, and a lot of fun.
You still have your very own look. Blond hair, big blue eyes, not looking all that much like Maddie or Sam as babies. You do remind us of Maddie in how you are inquisitive and always watching people's faces. You are constantly taking it all in.
This month was like a developmental explosion. All of the sudden you are up on your hands and knees, then you're rocking back and forth, then you're pushing up on your toes into planks and downward facing dogs, and then you're walking your little tootsies forward to your hands. Next week: sun salutations.
It looks like you'll be crawling within the month. Sigh. And I had such high hopes for a baby who would stay a baby forever. You love to barrel roll across the floor (and the bed, in the morning, after nursing, bumping into Daddy). You are all hands, grabbing and snatching and spilling and stealing before we even have a chance to react. Thankfully it's just been a glass of water here and a fistful of salad there. Nothing too dangerous. Yet.
Often the first sound out of your mouth upon waking is a raspberry. It's pretty much your favorite vocalization other than the ear-piercing, blood-curdling scream that we hear multiple times a day. Usually in confined spaces. At your six-month well check the pediatrician was amazed by the capacity of such a small guy to make such a big fuss.
But other than the screaming, you're a pretty fantastic baby. You will still fall asleep in my arms and take naps on my chest. You are sweet and inquisitive. You love to give kisses, big open-mouth, slobbery, wet kisses.
If I place you on a blanket in the grass, you make a rolling beeline for the edge of the blanket where you love to touch, pull, pick, and lick the grass and leaves. A blanket is pretty much pointless now, as you are quite mobile and even more determined to get to the edge. The grass doesn't seem to bother you at all; rather, you love to feel it in your hands and beneath you.
You can sit up by yourself, not for long, but just long enough to grab some photos. Most sits end up with you throwing your large head back and landing flat. Thankfully it's usually on a soft surface.
I'm so thankful we made it to six months. Medically speaking, the remicade you were exposed to in utero has now worked its way out of your bloodstream. Your immune system should be that of a normal baby! Yay! We've managed to keep nursing, too, which is such a good thing. Not only did you need it to build your immunity up to this point, but considering all those weight gain issues and the supplemental feeding, I'm so glad you still love to nurse. I love it too.
At six months, you are 85th percentile for height, 42nd for weight, and your head is somewhere in the 60s. You've managed to climb out of the bottom percentiles and find yourself a pretty average-sized baby. Yay for us! And yay for real food. You eat just about everything I put in front of you: squash, sweet potatoes, rice, oatmeal, mango, bananas, apples, peas, green beans...and there's so much more to come.
All in all, it's been a good half of a year, little guy. Thanks for all the snuggles, the laughs, the midnight prayer times, and for completing our family. You are dearly loved.
Love,
Mama
