When I get home from work, your face breaks into an enormous smile and your entire body stiffens out of excitement before you lean your face into mine and grab my cheeks with both hands. This greeting is the happiest part of my day.
Right now you love to snort. You scrunch up that little bulbous nose of yours and sniff and laugh and then sniff again. It's weird and adorable and makes us all laugh.
You've been rolling for a month now, but within the last week or so you've really started to move. I put you to bed on your back in one direction, you wake up on your tummy in the opposite direction. I sit you in your bouncy seat while I make dinner and you end up with your knees on the floor facing it. I leave you on a blanket on the living room rug and within minutes you're howling because you've managed to end up lying face-first on the hardwood.
Sitting independently is a recent achievement, as is being able to hold your own bottle. You chew on everything, but there are still no teeth in sight. [Editor's note: I discovered one of her bottom teeth had broken through about four hours after posting this.]
Calvin is your hero. You watch every move he makes, and he can soothe you faster than Dad and I can. He likes to stick his face right up against yours (which probably accounts for your runny nose) and sing made-up songs about being a big brother and protecting you. Yesterday he made faces at you in the backseat while we were stuck in traffic and you couldn't stop giggling. He adores you, and you him.
In the mornings, you've taken to screeching at the top of your lungs. Joyously. But the rest of the day? You are quiet. Observant. Patient. You go along with whatever we're doing without making a fuss. The only times you cry are when you are injured or scared or someone you don't know is holding you. You REALLY don't like strangers. Or even casual acquaintances. You like Mom and Dad. Grandma is okay, too. But everyone else...yikes.
Eating is one of your very favorite things to do. You are still nursing, although I think you just like to use me as a pacifier at night (I wish you would consider an actual pacifier.). You've taken to solids like a champ. Oddly, you prefer vegetables to fruit. Carrots are your favorite, sweet potatoes a close second. You give me a disgusted look whenever I try to feed you bananas.
You still aren't sleeping through the night. In fact, last night was the first time you've done that in months. But you go to bed easily and independently. I spent hours rocking Calvin to sleep when he was a baby. You, on the other hand, don't like to rock. Or cuddle. At all. You love to be held (not snuggled) during the day, but at bedtime you want to be left alone. Sometimes you fall asleep nursing, but more often than not I put you to bed awake, turn on your little musical soother, and leave you to it.
You are sweet. And happy. And so so so easy. Dad and I must say "she's such a good baby!" to each other a hundred times a day. Because you are. You make parenting look like a breeze, because parenting you IS a breeze — a breeze, a joy, and an honor.
Happy six months, my big girl. We love you so much.
Checking out that monkey over her shoulder.
Classic Audra expression.
Okay, she smiles once in a while.
Or twice in a while.
No, wait. That's not a smile. That's her snort face.
Either that chair is getting smaller or...oh, sad.
Happy baby.
This might be one of my favorites ever.
Serious face made a little less serious with flippy hair.
