Tomorrow, my little lady baby will be six months old. So much development in so little time! I mean, she's gone from this:
In a matter of a few short months!
And I'm blessed with a remarkably easy baby. Despite the endless months of teething that have yet to yield any fruit, a dairy sensitivity and just about every mild-to-moderate infant skin condition known to medicine, Lily is pretty easy to please. And when she isn't, she makes up for it by coming up with a new trick a few days later. Two weeks ago, I started to think she'd never be a roller, since she hadn't rolled over yet. Well, now she rolls every which way and with purpose. Just when I thought she'd never take regular naps (I went a little bit crazy almost every day during her fifth month of life), she's settling into a predictable pattern, which lets me get a lot more done around the house.
I have to continually remind myself of all of the above on days like today and yesterday. Lily must be cooking up something grand (a tooth?!?!? I can only hope; it's probably just a growth spurt) because she's been a bit difficult.
She was happy in the walker for a while:
But that got old, so we moved to the floor:
This child wants to go from flat on her back straight to sitting up. She dreams big.
But then a common scenario from yesterday started to repeat itself: a well-fed and comfortable baby doesn't want to be put down but writhes and kicks when held. As she started to slump over, fighting an afternoon nap
I decided to just flip her over and drape her over my lap.
And wouldn't you know it...
My counterbalancing right hand looks creepy! I mean, she liked it!
In fact, she's getting a bit comfortable. Could it be?
And there she still is, pacifier spit out and on the floor. Could someone please bring me a glass of water?