It seems to be that this point in time between months seven and eight has revealed the baby I’ve been hoping for all this time. Well, yes, from birth until now, she’s been downright delightful, but this baby we have on our hands now really feels like the big pay-off from the suffering through sleepless nights, Grandma visits, and our adventures in traveling.
She’s not having milestones, as much as she’s developing her own little personality. We’re also developing our own parenting personality, which is almost as much fun. Sure, you can sit on the kitchen floor while we make pancakes. No, you can’t just sit in your jumper and watch whatever is on the television. Yes, you can play with my cell phone. Yes, you can pet the kitty. No, you can’t pull her fur/ear/whisker. Yes, that pacifier on the floor is clean enough to put back in your mouth. Well, let me blow on it first.
She still is her own self – she sleeps well, eats well, and hates strangers. Some things might never change.
But this baby sits on the living room floor and plays peek-a-boo with herself with the help of some newspaper on her head. She also sits in her high chair in the kitchen and watches her mom make a lemon meringue pie. She rides in the cart at Sam’s Club. She doesn’t seem to mind wearing boy’s clothes, although she still looks better in pinks and yellows. She coos and sings and growls and screeches like a velociraptor. She smiles at you when you walk into a room (well, if she knows you). One day here, she’ll get teeth, and an attitude. But in the meantime, I’m going to soak this baby up.