Six Months!

Dear Madelaine,

Tomorrow you will be six months old, and like probably every mother of every six-month-old out there, I look at you and wonder, Where has the time gone? I literally can't remember what life was like without you. I know that there was such a time- a time when it was just your daddy and me, living our child-free, care-free lives. But care-free means we didn't have you to care for and care about. And believe me, we had no idea what we were missing.



And even as I puzzle over where the time has gone, it seems so long ago that we brought you home from the hospital, scrawny and sleepy and ready to startle and flail at the slightest disruption. You were SO very tiny then, even smaller than most newborns, and it was such a relief when you really started nursing after a few days. For the first few months you seemed to grow at a nice steady pace, and then somehow, in the last couple of months, you've shot up like a little dandelion! Pretty soon you're going to be in size 9-12 month clothing, and as your baby wardrobe whizzes past, I'm making a mental note: next time I see a cute dress, buy it in size 3T: you'll get to wear it longer.


In every phase that you've gone through, I've wanted to sit here and write about your little quirks and habits, the nuanced details of your everyday life that only parents really get to see. Now at six months, I'm realizing that those very early days are already beginning to fade from my memory, and I question my decision to not keep an official baby book for you. Yet time spent blogging or writing in a baby book means less time playing and dancing and rejoicing with you, rejoicing in you. There's something to be said for abandoning the never-ending attempts to chronicle, analyze, and re-create life by writing about it. Sometimes you just have to stop writing about life, and Live it.


I remember in the first weeks of your life, that after nursing you would arch your back, your eyes closed and your face damp with the sweet sticky milk, and s-t-r-e-t-c-h your tiny arms and hands as far as possible. I kept trying to capture that pose in a picture, but I don't think we ever succeeded. You used to chew on your hand when you were hungry, and then I would have to persuade you that you couldn't chew on your hand and nurse at the same time. Any sudden noises would prompt you to throw your arms over your head- Daddy said it's a reflex that newborns have to protect their fragile heads from getting bumped. Don't worry, little one- we've got you tight.

From the very beginning, you loved to snuggle and be held, so I carried you in a sling all the time to keep you close by. You wouldn't sleep for very long anywhere other than my sling or our arms, until you were about four months, when I discovered that if I put you on your tummy to sleep (a BIG no-no in this decade), you could actually sleep for half an hour alone! Just in time, too- my back was really starting to hurt, and you didn't seem as comfortable in the sling anymore. At first I worried about SIDS, and would check on you every few minutes just to watch you breathe. Parenting is not a risk-free endeavor, I realized. Love never is. I'm much less concerned about SIDS now; but I still love to watch you sleep.

The first few weeks I was using my breastpump every day to make bottles for you at night, and I would put you in your swing while pumping. To keep you content I started singing hymns to you, and I really enjoyed the uncritical appreciation you showed for my voice- although I would suggest taking singing advice from your father. Hopefully this love of music will continue as you get older, and then we can talk about what kinds of music you like someday. Now you like to watch the visualizations on the computer while you listen to Classical with Daddy and Afro-Celtic jigs with Mama, and I like to watch your face while you watch and listen.

Speaking of your swing, for awhile it was one of your favorite activities, and you started this cute little habit of sticking your right foot out to tap the post with every swing. That, and kicking your "jingle bear" mobile, were two of the first things you did to start to interact more with your world.



Now the swing is too tame for you; it's all about the ExerSaucer, with its myriad toy possibilities. (Sadly, you can't reach most of them to put them in your mouth, so I have to give you your ring rattle to keep you appeased.) You can roll from your tummy to your back (once, and then not attempt any further movement) and sit up for several minutes at a time, which makes playing with your toys a whole lot easier. You have a great attention span for storybooks already, and I love to sit with you in the rocking chair in the afternoons and drink coffee and read to you. When we went to visit your grandparents at Christmas and in January, they enjoyed all your new skills and especially your wonderful little giggle.



In the last few weeks, we've noticed that you say something that sounds like "bless you" when you sneeze and that you (very courteously) hold onto both your feet when we change your diaper. When Daddy blows air onto your face, you stick out your tongue and gasp. You've switched from a pacifier to thumb-sucking in the past couple of months, and started this funny little habit of trying to stick your finger in your mouth while you nurse.


Ever since you've been born, Madelaine, I've noticed your tendency to almost hyperventilate with excitement when you play. It's as if the wonderful possibilities of life just can't unfold fast enough for you. Every day I love waking up with you and seeing your bright morning smile, the way you can't wait for a whole new day to begin. You are just about the only thing that can make even your Daddy smile in the mornings. And at naptime and nighttime when you grow sleepy and frustrated with your toys, I love scooping you up in my arms and saying "Let's snuggle and nurse to sleep in the Big Bed." I love seeing you learn and change every day, getting to know the great little person you are growing into. I can't wait to see what the next few months bring, as the world within your reach keeps expanding and you keep growing to keep up.

I could go on and on, darling, but I have to bring this to a close (before you turn 1!). Your babyhood is going by so fast, little love. Every day I think, "I want to hold this moment, this one right here, in my heart forever." When I was pregnant with you, I knew in my head how much I would love you, but I never could have dreamed what that love would feel like. I had no idea that there could be a love so big, so all-consuming and overpowering, that all the poopy diapers and fussy evenings in the world wouldn't even matter. There are days like today when I grow weary, when I don't know how to entertain you or deal with the everyday challenges of being a full-time mom. But even on days like today, I stop for a minute and look at your smile, look at the miracle God has given me, and I know I wouldn't trade this life, this calling to be your mommy, for anything in the world.

I love you, sweetheart. You will always be my little Chicken. ;-)

Love, Mama