As you grow older, you’ll learn that time does funny things. Sometimes it feels slow, like the days are never-ending, and why can’t Christmas morning just be here already! Other times, you’ll blink and find your tiny newborn is a rolly-polly, babbling, giggling, chunky-monkey six-month old!
This was a busy month. You celebrated your first Halloween and Thanksgiving, and you took your first plane ride. We also began experimenting with solid food. Charlie, there are few things cuter than you lunging toward a spoon heaped with sweet potatoes, or apples, or bananas. Just not pumpkin. You hate pumpkin (I agree. It’s only good in pie). Today, Grandma B said you started crying at school when the older kids were eating cake, out of a bowl, OMG WITH SPOONS, and you couldn’t have any.
On Thanksgiving, Grandma B gave you a silver spoon to play with, the same spoon that your father had when he was a baby. You can’t imagine how weepy I got over that.
I’ve been packing up a lot of cute onesies you only wore once (sometimes not even that) because you’ve outgrown them. At the doctor today, you weighed in at 19.7 lbs (75th-90th percentile) and 27.5 inches long (75th percentile). Big dude.
Your hair is finally starting to come in, and your father and I often wonder exactly what color it will be. In some light, it’s blond; in others, brown. Sometimes we see a glint of red. I love rubbing the peach fuzz on your head, especially during your last bottle of the night when your eyes get all droopy. Not sure who it calms more.
You find your father hilarious. Seriously, he’ll walk into a room and you’ll start giggling. When he flails his arms or makes a funny face (or pounces on the bed), you explode into laughter. I try to get the same reaction out of you, and zilch. I’m no Dad.
You can technically sleep the night, but it doesn’t really count since you go to bed at 6 p.m. and wake up at 4 a.m. We’ve tried everything to keep you awake. Your internal clock just won’t have it.
When you’re awake, you always need to be busy. From the moment I lift you out of your crib, you’re looking for something to touch, to hold, to rattle, to bite. You love being outside because that’s where things are HAPPENING, man! This actually lessens my working-mom guilt a bit; I know you are always entertained at school.
We brought out the baby activity center and I don’t think you’ve ever been more excited. “The seat spins and I get to play with EVERYTHING?!” …. “Sophie who?”
This doesn’t mean you’re a happy dude all of the time because you absolutely hate the car seat. I think it’s a sign of your superior intelligence that you begin screaming your balls off as soon as the car door opens. You know what’s coming!! You’re beginning to have the same relationship with the changing table.
Charlie, there are many times that I look at you, amazed, and feel so lucky to be your mother. I struggle with sadness about a lot of things and can get into dark and twisty places pretty easily, but you always pull me out. All it takes is one of your toothless grins, a glance from your bright, inquisitive eyes, and, in rare moments, a gentle nuzzle against my neck.
I treasure you.