Six months of Back Seat Boy

This weekend you turned six months old. I can hardly believe where the time has gone. How did you get to be so big? I think you were a tiny baby for about .5 seconds.

Now you are this moon-faced adorable morsel I could just squeeze until you pop. I won’t though. You are always ready to smile. You will smile at anything. If I just glance in your direction I get the big, wide-eyed, toothless grin. Your Grandma calls you a “ray of sunshine”, and I would have to agree with her.

You have a great giggle. It’s impossible not to smile when I hear you start to laugh. The person who can get you to laugh the easiest is your big sister. You watch her intently, and if she decides to grace you with some eye contact, you smile gleefully. If she goes so far as to actually talk to you or do something silly, you can’t help but laugh with delight.

You’re starting to develop a bit of a schedule, much to my delight. I’ve decided to take your lead on this since that’s what I let your sister do and she figured out a pretty nice daily schedule for herself. I usually end up laying you down by 8. You’ve gotten into the bad habit of waking up between 5:45 and 6, but usually I can get you to go back to sleep for a little while. The problem is that I can’t get back to sleep.

When you do wake up for the morning you couldn’t be happier. You are usually content to lie in your crib for a while and wrestle and talk with your blanket bear. When I go in to greet you, you act like you are surprised that yes, we are still here and did not move out in the middle of the night while you were sleeping. You kick and grunt and smile, and just when you think it couldn’t get any better, I change your diaper. You LOVE getting your diaper changed. The only thing that is better than getting your diaper changed is eating, especially that cereal stuff we’ve started giving you. You open your little mouth like a bird when you see the spoon, and have since the second time you’ve ever tried it. It is pretty funny. You even get excited when you see me get out the milk and the bowl.

You’re to the age where you will try to grab anything, ANYTHING within your reach, or at least what you perceive to be within your reach. It’s hard to eat now with you on my lap, because you are constantly grabbing at my plate, at the fork going into my mouth, at my face, at my drink, etc. Everything that ends up in your hand goes into your mouth, of course. I have forgotten how much babies love to put everything into their mouths.

Watching you has made me remember things about your sister being a baby that I had forgotten. For instance, you have developed a fascination with the tags on your toys. Your favorite part of any toy is the tag. I remember now that your sister was the same way. You finger the tag, or stick it in your mouth, or hold it up really close to your face and look at it with awe and wonder. “Behold, it is the almighty tag. There is a wealth of information on this thing. It has washing instructions on it. It tells you where it is made. It tells you what company made it. Plus, it’s kind of shiny and slippery and fits perfectly into my mouth.” At least that is what I imagine is going through that little brain of yours.


The last six months have flown by, and I know the next six months will, as well. Before I know it you will be trying to walk and talk and the precious little baby you are now will only be a memory. I am tenaciously holding on to these innocent moments before you are treating me like an indentured servant as other people in this house are known to do. You look at me now after I feed you or change your diaper or get you after you’ve woken up from a nap with such gratitude, like these things aren’t expected of me--like I’m the greatest person in the world for keeping you alive for this long. I think you’re saying “Wow. Thanks Mom. I really was hungry/tired/messy, and you took care of it. I love you”.

Happy Birthday, Little Man. I love you, too.

P.S. You scream like a girl when you're excited, but I think it makes me love you a little more. You even make screaming like a girl cute.