even months. How is that even possible, Courtland?
And yet, here you are, on the brink of crawling. Rolling, and flopping, and dragging your little body from one end of the room to the other. Contentedly playing and cooing and chewing on a sea of toys coating the carpet. You’ve become so comfortable being alone and unattended. I’m not sure how this happened, given how particular you were for the first half year of your life, but something shifted this month. We can plop you on the floor and you’ll joyously entertain yourself. Moving from one toy to the next, wildly squawking and causing quite the ruckus. Hanna looms over you, licking your face and watching your every move if Daddy or I leave the room to fold laundry or grab a snack for your sister. She’s your Nana Dog, and finds you as delicious as you find our spread of wooden mixing spoons that so entice you during dinner time.
And on that note, meals are now a proper family affair. You sit in the highchair like quite the big girl, drooling and teething and banging on kitchen utensils. Sunny sits at her table which we’ve pulled next to the dining room table. And there we are. A family of four. Eating. Talking about our days. While we don’t yet understand your contributions, they are always enthusiastic and expressed with much fanfare.
And here is where I take a moment to acknowledge that Daddy and I make very loud babies. You and Sunny, while different is so very many ways, share the same high pitched, abrasive screech and Scuttle-like squawk. I wrote about it here and here and here and this is by far Auntie Kimmy’s favorite video documenting this voice with your sister. You are no exception. After being around your new friend Alison, I was struck by how different you sounded from her and thus how notably similar your pitch and tenor is to your sister’s. I’ll take this as a sign that you all have inherited my abrasively loud voice. It’s genetic! The Voice That Roared has been passed on! LUCKY DADDY!
Now that you’ve surpassed the mid-year marker, you are generally more at ease and easy going. You’re content to babble and stomp in your Pack n’Play whether it’s before you’re ready for sleep at bedtime, or when you first awake in the morning. While you still wake at least once per night to nurse, you are always willing to be carted back to your bed and put to sleep for a few more precious hours. In fact, once this week you slept for over 12 hours straight. While my boobs could have crushed stone they were so engorged by this change of schedule, Daddy and I delighted in the potential for a life of uninterrupted sleep. We can tell you’re going to get there, and that is reassuring. I won’t have these big bags under my eyes forever! HURRAY!
I’ve noticed that this month you are far more cautious of strangers. While you once smiled wildly and unabashedly at every passing face, you now eye new people with reservation and caution. You make them work for those smiles – which are still as wide and bright as ever when finally offered. The smiles are so wide in fact that they cause your face to mold into a perfect little square – your cheeks scrunched up so high that your chin tucks up and under and your face takes the form of that right angled geometry.
Unfortunately, with this new stranger danger mindset, you are very unwilling to let new people hold you, and even protest when handed over to your beloved babysitter. Of course, as soon as Daddy or I leave the room, you are happy and delightful. You just want your voice heard. These days you are far more apt to voice your opinion about who lays hands on you than ever before.
And I suppose that’s all a part of growing up. While you are easier and more fun in some ways, you’ve become more challenging in others. And that’s just as it should be. Momar explained that as your children grow, it gets better and better. More and more complicated and complex, of course. But the rewards become much greater, thus the complexities worth the struggle.
And so I will revel in this time where I am still your most favorite face in The Universe. I will enjoy that my touch, my hands, my embrace is enough to melt away the tears and make everything right in your little world. And I hope that, while it will not always be so easy, I will always be that source of comfort. That I will always be your safe harbor. Because if I could, my daughter, I would ensure that your face were always in the shape of that delightful little square.
Happy 7 Months, baby.