Sunday, December 16, 2012
If it were up to me, babies would arrive at 6 months old. The smiling. The giggle fests. The deliciously nom-able tiny thigh rolls. The sitting up. The playing. The intense concentration involved in transporting toy to mouth.
I love the thought bubbles. "That looks delicious" she thinks, scrunching up her brow and pursing her lips. Sometimes her tongue escapes the side of her mouth to aid in baby-thought. She huffs and puffs and hyperventilates with glee when said delicious object is finally! successfully! lodged between her drool-ey gums.
She does her huffy baby giggle every time we walk up the stairs to the upstairs hall. The Baby In The Mirror lives at the end of that hall, and man, she is so fun! She has a mommy that looks just like Katherine's mommy! What are the chances?!?
She loves spicy food. Hates bland stuff. Gets tastes of almost everything we eat and loves it all. She's good at transporting broccoli florets to her mouth and enthusiastically sucking off the buds.
She has no schedule despite our very best efforts... despite Baby Wise and all the advice in the world. She wakes up starving once most nights and our tired still hurts most of the time. But I've developed a taste for coffee, and we're learning to say "No" more often. We spend most weekends at home, which we enjoy because we're homebodies. We're trying to be good to ourselves and to each other. We made room in the budget for clothes for me, and I find that when I feel pretty, the interrupted sleep hurts less.
She loves people. Smiling Strangers are her very best friends. She's a total flirt. She was whimpering at the grocery store with her Daddy the other day until the checkout lady smiled at her. Big Grin. And when they left the Smiling Stranger? Meltdown... haha. She hates Mass because there are SO! MANY! PEOPLE! and none of them are paying any attention to her!! (The Humanity!)
I find myself trying to stop time and burn sweet baby moments into my brain. As I was feeding this half-asleep child at 4 AM... the weight of her totally relaxed body in my arms, the quiet of the night, the sweet smell of her head and the grip of her tiny hand around my pinky finger. One of the blessings of infertility is not knowing if this will ever happen again. There might be lots of tears, poop, and whining right now, but I'm so blessed.