Today you turn 7 months old. I. Cannot. Believe. It. Seven months sounds old. I feel like I can’t say I just had a baby. I had a baby 7 months ago. That tiny, pink shrieking newborn is now babbling up a storm (even a few “mamas” when he’s crying really hard), who scoots and crawls around the house, grabbing Lola’s legs and toys, much to her displeasure. That little, fragile infant is now so incredibly curious about the world around him that he scoots himself all over to see just what that tuft of dog hair is on the floor. Maybe I’ll eat it! Yum!
You used to just eat and sleep and only cry when you were hungry. You still looooove to eat, but now you actually eat off a spoon. And enjoy trying to get those little disolveable cereal puffs into your mouth, though they usually end up on the floor. Which, to Lola, makes up for grabbing her and her toys. You don’t cry that often, but now you cry for other reasons than just being hungry. You cry when you’re tired. When you feel like no one is paying attention to you. When you don’t want to play in your exersaucer anymore. And when you’re over tired, you WAIL. I totally get it, baby. It’s ok that you cry. I just love when I pick you up to comfort you and you rest your head on my shoulder, burying your face in my neck. A note to all new or soon-to-be parents: that is one of the best feelings in the entire world.