Dearest roly-poly daughter of mine,
As many times as people told me time with you would fly by, I still can't believe you're already six months old. Half a year! As much as this milestone makes me tear up, I've been finding myself thinking, "This is why people have kids" lately.
You hardly cry, can go to sleep on your own (and in fact seem to prefer it now), and can amuse yourself and allow me freedom for expanses of time that seem positively sinful. I swear, sometimes the minutes I have to get a mug of tea and go to the bathroom extend into the double digits! I do tend to exaggerate for the sake of humor on this here blog, but I swear to you I had twelve minutes to myself while you were AWAKE the other day. TWELVE!
You love it when your Dada or I make silly faces and nuzzle our noses into your belly to tickle you, and giggle uproariously at the slightest provocation. You've discovered how to string together rolling onto your back and onto your tummy to become mobile, and while I'm glad you've reached this milestone, you don't have to practice anymore, okay? Just stay where Mama puts you. Nobody wins when you manage to wedge your chubby little thighs under the bookcase.
You're getting to be such a clever little monkey. While the dog is still more capable than you are, you're definitely proving to be much smarter than he is. When we point to a dropped morsel on the ground for him to clean up, his reaction is along the lines of, "Finger! Finger! Finger tasty? Not tasty finger. Finger tasty now? Not tasty finger. Now? Not tasty. Lie down." When we're reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar to you and showing you the little egg on the leaf, you actually look at the egg when we point at it. And then you try to eat it and the rest of the page, but still.
I'm not sure when in these last few months it happened, but your Dad and I've changed, too. Somewhere along the line we've gone from exchanging panicked looks when you just wouldn't stop crying at 3am to confident veterans who know better than anyone what you need. One thing hasn't changed; we still marvel at your utter perfection every night as we watch you sleep. I remember standing by your crib with Alex when we first brought you home and being overwhelmed by how tiny and perfect you were, and that wonder has only increased with every brilliant and adorable move you make.
Thank you, baby, for bringing us more joy than I ever thought possible.
All my love,