Six Months

My baby girl is six months old. She is no longer a blob. She has a personality (oh well she always had personality but now it is more like Personality). She has things to tell you. Sometimes she tells you in Dolphin Shriek but she gets her point across.

She has three teeth which she will not show you willingly but pop out when she grins. Her eyes are still crystal blue. Her hair is blond and red and black. All of them at once. Her cheeks are so rosy it looks like I make her up with blush. Her cheeks hang low like a hound dog. I find it impossible to not to much them like popcorn. Impossible to walk past her without breathing in that baby smell and kissing the top of her head.

She can sit up by herself, for minutes at a time, before toppling over like a tower of blocks. She likes to fling her rings around. She can pull herself forward on her belly like a centipede. She sits in her excersaucer (which I call the office) doing very Important Work. It is like she is a tiny executive making deals, ruling the economies of small countries, the usual. And every once in a while she will cackle and flash a look like "this shit doesn't happen on it's OWN Mama." Some one has to press the music buttons on that fucker over and over until my eyeballs pop out I guess.

She loves to eat. Anything. She will slam back her bottle in a technique I am sure will serve her well in college though I hope she will be able to hold it on her own more gracefully by them. She eats fruits, veggies, rice cereal and oatmeal with gusto. She will grin while eating and let it spill out all over. She will howl with outrage if you do not shovel it in fast enough. After a good meal she will rub her belly and bliss out for a few minutes.

My whole world is different and I cannot even remember life before Mo (ok there was sleep I do remember the sleep). I feel like the cheesiest cheese because it is like some one cranked up the color on my world. I go to sleep at night (eventually) with purpose.

To sleep that sweet baby head.