seven

enjoying the houseboat, july 08

No, no, no.... forget what I said about your sixth month being my favorite. Your seventh month is! This time I promise.

At seven months, you have shot up in height! (Shot up meaning, of course, an inch or two.) These extra couple of inches pushed a couple of your baby rolls right out the door. We were sad to see them go. They were so incredibly cute. Bathtime isn't near challenging enough anymore. I can nearly do a surface wash on you now whereas before I had to tackle the crevice between each roll. Just so I won't be bored...you learned how to splash. No one bathes you and comes out dry! Each time I look at the water marks all over the wall in the bathroom and kitchen, I am reminded of your constant growing. The obsessive part of me wants to repaint. The sentimental part of me knows that those marks will make it hard for me to ever move from this house.
bathtime in the kitchen sink, july 08

You kicked off month seven with a string of da-da-da-da-das. This made your dad crazy with happiness. He smiled and laughed and spent a good amount of time coaxing you to say it "just one more time." We didn't know if you actually knew what you were saying, but you certainly enjoyed the shower of attention that followed this new babble. You said it enough times that it was decided that it should be recorded in your baby book as your first word. Your dad didn't rub it in too much...but he sure was proud. You love him so much. Some days when I hear the garage door open at the end of the day I scoop you up and take you out to the landing to greet him. When you catch sight of daddy getting out of the car, you begin to bounce and pant and squeal. This makes his day, I just know it. He's almost always on the phone and so he tries to wrap up a business conversation while smiling from ear to ear. He kisses me, then he kisses you, and then he always says, "Let me wash my hands." This means he is just seconds from lifting you out of my arms and you seem to realize what is about to happen. I hope you will live the rest of your life knowing that you have the most wonderful da-da-da-da a girl could ask for. Sure, he rolls up his sleeves and changes your diaper...and he knows how to do the airplane with carrots on a spoon...but more importantly, he loves you and me with everything he has. I hope his love lights up your life like it does mine. When I think about your dad...it seems fitting to me that da-da was your first word.
silly girl, july 08

Just as I was beginning to have some she-likes-you-better-than-me-and-I'm-the-one-who-takes-care-of-her-all-day thoughts...you started doing something that I have secretly been looking very forward to. You started reaching for me....as in lunging toward me when you are in someone else's arms...as in diving back toward me when someone tries to take you from me. The first time it happened I thought my heart would burst. "Let me walk by her again and see if she does it again," I kept saying. Sure enough...you did it again and again. It's funny, but the fact that you love me so much never ceases to amaze me! It's hard to explain...but it's true. Each day I just can't believe that I am yours and you are mine...and that you find comfort in my arms. Maybe this is because in my life before you, I was generally the one seeking comfort rather than providing it. This is not to say that I don't try to comfort others. I do. Unfortunately though, I am such a worried, anxious sort of person that I am probably not high on the "provides comfort" list. You have awakened a new part of my soul...something I didn't think I was capable of...something that I've always had, but never used....a little pocket of comfort and safety for someone else. The fact that you expect this from me has made me so much stronger. I hope you'll always find solace in me. I sure will be here....always.
waiting for lunch, july 08

Lately, your dad and I have been wondering if your freshman roommate will make fun of you for wearing a sleepsack to bed....or for sleeping in a positioner. (Because we plan to withhold spending money from you if you refuse to follow our rules. And our rules include a sleepsack and a positioner!) Even though everyone and their brother has told us that you are OLD ENOUGH TO ROLL OVER IN YOUR SLEEP! we still can't seem to let go of the worry that something will happen to you in the night. It's ridiculous...and deep down, we know this, but it is so hard to let go! We've talked about it many times. Tonight's the night, we'll say. And then, just an hour later, we are zipping you into your little sack and placing you in between your two bumpers (in our room still...shhh, it's a secret.) We can't even help ourselves. Tonight we decided (read: your dad decided) that we don't care what the books say or what other parents say. We are going to keep doing what we're doing until we feel comfortable changing it. So...having said that...I hope your college roommate is kindhearted because we will be sending you to the university of your choosing with some sleep safety items. PS: We're hoping that you choose a campus that has good video monitor reception, too. Just sayin'.....you know, in case you need us!
so happy, july 08

all the babies from our small group at church, you are the oldest but the second smallest!

You are starting to outgrow some of your toys! I have already stored away a shameful amount of outgrown clothing and now the toys! The swing that you basically lived in for the first 8 weeks of your life now bends significantly under your weight. You reach back and hold onto the bar which makes the lullabies turn into a theme song fit for a horror movie. Your highchair tray is hopelessly scratched due to your love of banging hard things on other hard things! You'd pass up a dolly, blocks, or even a book for a regular old restaurant napkin that you can rip into one million tiny pieces. Your dad and I have had many peaceful meals thanks to a simple straw paper or two. Who needs Fisher Price when you have paper waste? Way to be green, baby girl!
watching daddy work in the yard, july 08

I can't wait to meet you again tomorrow morning. You are new and yet familiar every single day. In this way, I find comfort in you. The sun will rise, and I will lift you from your bed and bury my nose into your neck. It will smell like Bisquick (just like always) and I will drink it in and utter an insignificant thanks to the God who blessed me with you. And our day will begin....
We will eat and play and hold onto each other. You will insist on being perched on my hip and I will struggle around wondering what items on the to-do list can be done with only one arm. You will cry when it is naptime and I will run around like a crazy person trying to pack as much productivity I possibly can into however long you sleep. You will wake and I will say, "There's momma's baby" just like always.

And you will be loving me...and I will be amazed.
looking for the ticklebug, july 08