Dear Baby Girl,
Yesterday you turned six months old. Six whole months of baby. I can’t quite believe it. In many ways the past six months have whizzed by at a scary speed. Sometimes I feel like I blink and you’ve changed right there in front of me. You’re no longer the tiny little slip of a thing we brought home from the birth centre that night. You are solid, with chunky, strong thighs and a firm grip. You like to bash things and grab things and ram anything and everything (including my face, often) into your mouth.
Your number one favourite thing in the whole world is to be held and talked to. You’re an incredibly sociable little thing, gurgling and grinning at anyone who stops to say hello – and some who don’t. Other things you like: breastfeeding, eating in general, cuddles in my bed as you nestle against me at 3am, your big sister, Sophie the Giraffe, baths, swimming.
At six months you’re as eager as ever to get moving. You’re frustrated when you can’t reach things and let out a yelp of irritation. You’re happiest on your front, kicking around and pulling yourself in a circle as you try (and try and try) to negotiate your way across the room. Whenever I put you down to play on your back you roll over and often twist yourself around like a baby compass. You’ve always been happiest on your front, it seems. Your little legs never stop kicking – you love it when you’re held by the hands so you can bounce and stand. Even when you’re sleeping you wave your arms and kick your legs – often waking yourself up. Slow down little one, stay still a little longer.
The relationship that’s developing between you and your big sister is a joy to see. I think you know where we are when we do the school run together these days. I carry you in the sling and can see you searching for Frog’s face as the children pile out of the classroom. You light up like a shining beacon when you spot her – legs kicking aplenty.
Your favourite place to sleep is in my bed, next to me. These days though, you tend to nap in your cot – which is nice because it means I can get a bit of work done. Thanks for that, baby. I do wonder if you will ever sleep reliably on your own but then I remember that you’re only little once and I’ve grown rather used to having you snuggled against me – I know I’ll miss these days once they’re done.
This last month has been one of firsts: first mini-break, first holiday, first roast dinner, first Easter. It’s also seen your first proper poorly episode – you had a virus for a few days which wasn’t much fun. Seeing you all hot, floppy and lethargic in your nappy, wanting nothing but to be held close by me, reminded us how tiny and vulnerable you still are – even though you are strong and bash things repeatedly.
We love you Baby Girl. Thank you for entertaining us with your toothless grins, squeaks and kicking legs.