6 months

Dear Baby Boy,

Six months old. Six months. Halfway to a year in the blink of an eye. One day I brought you home from the hospital, and the next you are up on all fours, wanting to crawl. One night we sat and snuggled while you slept on my shoulder in the wee hours of the morning, and the next you put yourself to sleep in your crib, waking only to eat and then immediately sleep again.

I know what they mean now when they say that it passes too quickly. We spend our days moving at a frenetic pace, striving to merely keep up with all the things we have to do, and I don't get nearly enough time to stop and sit and watch you grow.

Have I already told you what an incredibly happy boy you are? I don't think I've ever known a baby so agreeable, so cheerful, so easily amused. It's so easy to make you laugh, and so addictive. You think your big sister is the funniest person in the world. You laugh at her when she shows you toys. You laugh at her when she dances and sings. You laugh at her, full, deep belly laughs, when she blows a toy horn that unfurls in front of your face with every puff. And she loves you. Still, after six months, she wants to know where you are at all times. She wants to hug you and kiss you good night every night. She spontaneously gives you hugs, and when you're crying, she'll say to me with a worried face, "Baby Sam is upset!" The other day the two of you sat in the living room together, unloading a box of your toys one at a time, and you dad and I stopped and watched the two of you from a distance. I'm so happy you have each other, and will always have each other. I'm so happy at the love I already see between the two of you.

At six months, you are already a complete sitter. It's what I call the "potted plant" stage because I can plop you somewhere with a couple of toys and you sit there, perfectly content, without moving. Alas I think this stage will be short-live for you. You are up on all fours every chance you get, rocking and wanting to move forward. You have figured out how to spin in circles to get to what you want, but the only true motion you have down so far is backward. One day, probably very soon, you're going to figure out forward and then life as we all know will change forever!

You have the sweetest little voice. Your babbling is back in full force, and I love to hear all the sound you make. I've heard the D, B, P, and G sounds, and all the vowel sounds. Sometimes it even sounds like you're saying "bubble!" I haven't heard the "M" sound yet, but you love when I put my lips to your cheek and say "muh-muh-muh-muh-muh"--the noise and the vibration give you the giggle fits, which in turn prompt me to do it over and over and over. And then you turn and plant your open mouth on my cheek and grunt, your way of doing the same thing to me, and I laugh and laugh and hug you close.

We started solid foods five days ago, though we did cheat a bit and give you a taste of an apple last week. As soon as you tasted the sweet fruit, you clamped your little hands down onto mine and pulled the apple slice as hard against your face as possible. You were pulling so hard the tips of your fingers where white! We laughed so hard at your enthusiasm. You cried when I pulled the apple slice away to hand you off to your dad so that I could take a picture, and then immediately perked up as soon as you had the slice back in your mouth. Unfortunately, you didn't have exactly the same enthusiastic response to the avocado we gave you when we started solids for real. That's okay, baby. You'll get there. You seem to like banana a little better, and I have squash and sweet potato ready to give you this week. I recently read that we can start giving you a sippy cup of water to begin to learn how to drink. I still think of you as my itty bitty baby; I can't believe you're already old enough for a sippy cup.

You are still waking once a night to eat. Thought it's hard for me to get up in the middle of the night every night, when I'm actually there with you, in the dark room, I kind of love it. The rest of our lives are so hectic that these quiet minutes with you in the middle of the night are sometimes the only slow, still moments in my day. I do hope you'll get to the point sometime this month where you don't wake to eat any more, but it's okay to take your time. I'll wait 'til you're ready. The big improvement this month, though, has been with your naps! Whereas I could pretty much rely on only 30-45 minute naps before, you have started to consistently take at least one 90-minute nap a day now. Yay! And you are getting so much better at settling yourself to sleep. I'm so proud of you.

You don't have any teeth yet, but I have a sneaky suspicion they are on their way. Though you've been drooling like a leaky tub for a while now, just in the last few days you've started shoving your fists inside your mouth, too. I hope the teething process isn't too much of a bear for you (and I hope you take it easy on your momma while nursing!).

Your dad was gone for a week on a business trip this month, and big sister went to spend the week with G-Mommy and Granddad, giving us some rare time to ourselves. I loved getting to focus all of my attention on you and just you for a change. Our time together only underscored for me what a sweetheart you really are: happy, loving, kissy, snuggly, fascinated in the world around you but oh-so content to observe it all from the security of my arms.

These have been the happiest six months of my life, and I know that the next six months will only improve.

Happy half-birthday, sweet boy.

Love,
Mom