Dear Bug,
You're growing up too fast. Sunday was your six month "birthday," and I was amazed - as always - at how quickly time has passed. I want to start writing to you every so often to force myself to slow down and appreciate who you are right now, instead of getting caught up in all my plans for your future. I want to stop and really think about you when the days seem to fly by and when I'm stuck at an office away from you. And maybe you'll like reading about these times when you grow up - to get a sense of what you were as a baby, and how your Mother and Father loved you and worked so hard to learn how to show you that.
Six months! Right now you try so hard to sit up, but you're not strong enough yet, so you topple over to one side before long. You lean forward a lot, and you look kind of weird - all folded up - when you sit. But you absolutely refuse to play on your back now, because you believe you're a sitter, even though your core muscles don't quite agree. So, Mommy or Daddy have to sit behind you and support you while you play. Grandma also bought you a Bumbo seat, which you love, and that helps you to sit upright. But you have to reach down to grab your toys off the floor, and you hate that. After a few minutes in the Bumbo you just grunt and slobber, so we take you out.
You can roll over from back to front, but you don't do it very often for some reason. I think it's because you don't like to show off. You also love to stand up and stamp your feet. I call it "Steps" and we sing a song when you do it. You look like you're concentrating so hard when you do steps - like you're really trying to do it right. You also try and grab everything you see - and once you've grabbed it, you put it right in your mouth. Your father and I try to be super vigilant, but I'm waiting for the day you pick up a lit cigarette or a piece of dog poo. That will be a bad day.
You don't really have a favorite toy yet, but you did recently discover the mirror and you like looking at yourself and trying to bite your reflection. It's super cute. You can "talk," and you and I have conversations all the time. Sometimes you interrupt me when I'm talking, but I don't mind because you usually have more interesting things to say anyway. Daddy swears you can say words like "Hey," but I'm not so sure. Your favorite time to talk is in the very early morning when you first wake up. That's usually when I'm not so down with talking, so you monopolize the conversation. Then you eat your hands.
You've started eating solid foods. You've tried cereals, banans, peas, and carrots. You're just like your dad - you'll eat anything. I have pictures of the first time you tasted carrots - it didn't seem like you liked them, but you eat them anyway. Seriously, just like your dad. But your new foods don't mean that you get any less breastmilk, so Mommy still has to pump away to keep you healthy and fed.
Playtime with Daddy is your favorite time. You get this huge smile on your face and you start to giggle whenever you see him. When he holds you in his lap you start bending your knees so he'll lift you over his head. He calls it "Jumps" and you LOVE it. He can only do about 20-30 jumps at a time before his arms get tired. It's never enough for you, though. So, we take turns. You and Daddy always wrestle, too. Your wrestling name is "Stink Bug" and you're generally regarded as the most dangerous wrestler in the business. You are usually the winner in your matches against Daddy since you try to "latch on" to his nose, a move Daddy calls the "Stink Nose." Because your breath smells like sour milk, this move always defeats Daddy. You are then declared the winner. You win every time.
Naps are a problem. You only nap for 20 minutes at a time, and you need to listen to rap music or Taylor Swift while being rocked in order to fall asleep. You sleep on my chest or Daddy's, and always leave a puddle of drool on our shirts. But neither one of us wants to put you in your crib to nap because we love to cuddle with you. You wake up really abruptly, too, and give us these huge smiles that let us know you're ready for jumps or to wrestle again.
Night-time is my favorite time of day. Every night I get you in your pajamas and Daddy reads a book to us. Then, he turns out the light and it's just you and me. We sit in your rocking chair and I sing you songs while you take your bottle and fall asleep. I sing "In My Life," "Goodnight My Angel" and "If the Stars Were Mine" most nights, but then I follow up with whatever songs are in my head. Lots of Tori Amos, some classic rock, some rap songs. You don't know the difference as long as I sing slowly and softly. I have a terrible voice, but you don't seem to mind. When you're finally asleep I just rock you quietly for a while and look at your beautiful little face. I kiss you over and over, very gently, before tucking you into your crib. It's what I look forward to every day and I hope you let me do it for a really long time.
You're a crappy sleeper, though. Up every few hours to hang out or eat. It's a work in progress.
So, that's a little snapshot of you at six months old. Happy, healthy, and perfect in every way. Every little thing you do is absolutely amazing to me, and every little smile and tear makes me adore you more than I ever thought possible. You are the world to me - a little drooling, pooping, crap-napping, giggling, wiggling, curious, jumping, cuddly, unbelievable little world. And I love you.
Love always,
Mommy
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