Wednesday, February 6, 2013

six months

Dear Linnea,

Today, you are six months old.

six months

After noticing a little more fussiness and gnawing of hands on Sunday, I checked your mouth. Yes, Virginia, there is a first tooth. You've taken it rather well; that is, only on Sunday afternoon did you wake up upset and had to be held for your afternoon nap. However, you have taken to waking up at 5:20 in the morning for the last few days. Sometimes I can pull you into bed with me and nurse you back to sleep. Sometimes you wind up rolling over and yelling in your crib. I'd feel bad, but the neighbors' kids spend their evenings doing kitchen demolitions and stabbing each other with forks.

You met your grandfather Martin for the first time this month. He enjoyed getting to know you, and you enjoyed grabbing for his glasses.

You have successfully figured out how to roll over. You are so good at it, in fact, that you keep doing it in your crib, on the bed, on the changing table. Sometimes I come into your room after you wake up and find you hanging out on your tummy, looking around. It has been much less dramatic than it was initially:

You have also found your feet, which are also good for nomming. You have also stopped fighting the snot sucker, and instead pant rapidly and try to pull it into your mouth.

We moved to a new apartment, and despite the fact that there are boxes all over your room, your new window is in direct sunlight, and this place is a little less well insulated than our old place, you have barely registered that you've noticed anything.

Your dad has been in India for a large part of this month, which makes us both sad. But you got to hang out with our friends for the first time to watch Baltimore whomp on San Francisco, and Beyonce use up all the electricity in America.

You really love daycare, and your face lights up when you see Fernanda, Irma, and Maria. You are so excited to see them, than sometimes I tear up on the way to the car because I think it means that you like them more than me. And then I try to remind myself that it's because they have toys and energy and other kids, and I have pumping and washing dishes and bleary-eyed night feedings.

We made to six months of nursing, which is like HOLLA. We are supposed to be starting you on solids, but I am being a scaredy cat over this. I'm nervous about how to plan it out, the mess it will make, and what it will do to your poop. I beg you to please be patient with me on this, because my obsessive need to make lists and organize will completely overwhelm any joy I may receive from this milestone.

Things that make you laugh: fart noises, the guitar runs from "Tom Sawyer," being thrown into the air.

Happy half-birthday, kiddo.

six months

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