Today you are 5 months and 2 days old.
This baby phase is fleeting, I know this, so I am trying my hardest to soak in every single iota of your baby-ness. I watch you while you sleep. I hold you when I could just as easily put you down. I relish every single smile and giggle you dole out. I squeeze your thighs.
Oh, those thighs! So roly poly and squishy. Don’t worry, you’ll stretch out. Or you might have my thighs when you’re older. Sorry about that. Hey, my thighs have allowed me to run a few half marathons and land a double salchow, so I can’t complain about them too much.
Your daddy and I talk a lot about what we think you’ll be like when you’re older. For a while there I was wondering if you might possibly be more of a quiet little kid than your tornado of a big brother. Somehow I don’t think so. The other night you were sitting on Daddy’s lap and you kept playing a game of popping your pacifier in your mouth, taking it out and throwing your head -and your whole body- backwards in a fit of laughter. Over and over you did it. I think you noticed how funny we found it and you were really hamming it up. At 5 months old.
Something tells me we’re going to have two little tornado children. It’s ok. Your daddy and I were both little tornado children. We can handle it.
Yesterday you had your first taste of something other than breastmilk – rice cereal. Initially, the look on your face when I put the spoon in your mouth was priceless, “WHAT IS THIS? WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?”
But then you started to actually swallow some of it before spitting the rest of it out, dribbling it down your chin and onto your personalized bib. And all was well.
So happy 5 months, sweet girl. We love, love, love you.