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Friday, July 25, 2014

Letters to Emmy : Seven Months

June 12 to July 12, 2014
Dear Emmy,

Hey, there, baby girl.

So you're seven months old now (well...you were like two weeks ago) and last month I thought I had you all figured out but this month everything has changed.

You loved your pacifier and needed it to sleep and I was actually worried about how I was going to wean you off of it, but then overnight you decided that pacifiers are total shit and you don't want anything to do with it and you scream louder if I try to give it to you.

You wanted to sleep by yourself and just be left alone, but now you only want to sleep if I'm holding you. Similarly, you were happy to play by yourself except now you think we've totally abandoned you FOREVER if I even step two feet away.

Oh, separation anxiety. How I DID NOT MISS YOU AT ALL.


Although I will say that they way you clamber to me no matter the obstacle is kind of amazing. And I'm not going to lie, I get a huge thrill when you reach for me. You put your arms around my neck and pull me in and bury your face in my shoulder and I squeeze you back and I can't stop and then eight hours later your dad comes home from work and finds me in the exact same position just cuddling you FOREVER.

You're a happy, content baby with an easy smile. And still those dimples. And still those rolls and cheeks, oh my. Sometimes the light hits your hair right and I think you might be my red-headed baby, but other times it just looks blonde, and still other times light brown. I think it's fair to say I have no idea what it's going to do. All I know is that it's much lighter than Carys's was at this age. You always have rosy cheeks. Your eyes are just as blue as hers were, but hers have darkened and turned gray-green-hazel, so it's anyone's guess whether your eyes stay blue. Still no teeth, but we're a family of late teethers, so that's no surprise. You were 18.5lbs and just shy of 28" tall at your six-month appointment.

When you do cry, it just slays me right to the core. Your cries are so unlike your big sister's were - or maybe I've just blocked out how heart-wrenching they can be? You sound so SAD. Not angry. Angry I could let go a little longer. Angry I'm trying to put you to bed? Yeah, okay. But heartbroken? Betrayed? GAH. You know how to get to me, kid.

You also blow raspberries when you are upset, which I think maybe you picked up from Carys? I'm not sure. You do it when you're happy, too, though. Same with squealing. Squealing and raspberries and I can't tell if you're happy or upset or just making noise.

You've been sitting up for a while, but you've now started crawling! You army crawl at a lightening pace and I've scooped you up inches from the stairs (which are impossible to gate off due to their configuration) a hundred times. You were SO FLIPPING HAPPY to have gotten that down. AUTONOMY! I CAN GO WHERE I WANT AND NOT WAIT FOR THOSE DAMN HANDLERS TO FIGURE OUT WHERE I WANT TO GO! You're starting to pull yourself up, too, and can go from the floor to my shoulders...somehow. I'm not really sure how you do it. You never stop moving. You are the biggest wiggleworm ever. You're go-go-go-go-GO-OMG-GO-ALREADY.

You love toys and to chew on things but only if they are NOT baby toys. I can seriously place 100 baby toys in front of you and mix one of your sister's toys in with it and you will choose her toy EVERY TIME. It's almost uncanny. And is starting to cause some friction between you and your sister already, but luckily at this point she still likes you enough to share.  Your favorites of her toys are, of course, those one with tiny pieces. Tiny, choke-able pieces. Tiny, choke-able pieces that you love to stick in your mouth.  Tiny, choke-able pieces that you love to stick in your mouth and scream over when I take them away.  Particularly the pieces to her magnetic dress-up doll set.  I'm constantly asking, "Do you have something in your mouth?" and the default answer is YES. You're like a human vacuum cleaner, sticking the tiniest pieces of anything you can find on the floor in your mouth. You also love to crawl up to our entertainment center and open and slam the doors over and over and over, and you really love this Weeble castle that a friend found for us at a garage sale - you've figured out how to press the button to make it spin, and I think you're doing it on purpose, even!

You're still nursing full-time (and I love how you constantly have your hand in my mouth and grabbing my hair or neckline), but we've slowly introduced some solid foods. The first attempt was not well received.

Since we're doing baby-led weaning according to your prompts, it took a little while before you were ready, but now you're eating real, whole foods like a pro.  I'm a little more strapped for time with you than I was with Carys, so you've still mostly gotten just wedges of avocado and apples, or whole plums and peaches (I pull the pits out when you start getting down that far), or carrots, or smushed blueberries, but no whole meals yet. Basically, anything I can prep and give you in less than five seconds, you've had.

Also plates.

You don't really babble the way I remember Carys babbling - you are more of a Neandrathal baby, squealing and grunting and sighing and cooing and blowing raspberries.  Say "mama" already, kid!!!! That's one of my favorite moments of motherhood, and I can't wait to hear your voice.

I'm pretty sure once you say that, you'll have me wrapped around your little finger.

OH WHO AM I KIDDING? You already do, like times a billion. The way you look up at me with those baby blues? The way you softly put your hand on my face? The way you smile at me with that big gummy grin? The softness of your hair under my cheek when we cuddle? Those rubber-band wrists and those roly-poly thighs? Your elfin ear? My god, do I love it all. You're fantastic.

I love you, baby squish. To the moon and back. And back again. And then again and again for eternity.


P.S. Oh, my god, I almost forgot one of my favorite things. You've learned to give kisses. You give these giant open-mouth kisses and it's just the best. thing. ever.

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