Here is your 6 month letter, a full week late. Your Mama feels like she is running just a bit behind with everything right now: I'm less organized than usual at work, the house isn't quite as clean as I would like it to be, I have a long list of friends who are owed a phone call or a coffee date. I wonder why that is?
Even though there aren't enough hours in the day we've settled into a nice little weeknight routine. Your dad and I love the evening hours that we get with you. You seem much more curious about who we are- watching, always watching, even if it means contorting your little body to keep your eyes on us. You have a vocal range that keeps growing- you chat away in your crib when you wake up, when you're playing on the floor and in particular when you're sitting on our laps. You reach for everything but seem particularly interested in textiles and fabrics.
You seem to be laughing now but rarely make a noise, you scrunch your face up and look overwhelmed with joy. I hope that you are overwhelmed with joy and I hope that you always stay that way. The other night your dad and I were talking about who we think you might be and our hopes for you. While the list of all the things you might be and that we hope for you to be is long, one thing rises to the top of the list. We hope that you are happy. While life will present struggles and challenges, we hope that in those times you are buoyed by an undercurrent of joy.
We love you, little Melon. See you tonight when I get home.
You are 5 months old, my tiny friend. We are approaching the time when your personality will begin to become more apparent. I watch you and I see traits and characteristics emerging. I wonder if they are temporary- here today gone tomorrow- or if they are the things that will come to define you. The words that we will gravitate towards when someone says "tell me about your daughter." You are determined. You practice new skills (rolling over!) at all hours of the night, working and working to get it right. You get frustrated when you struggle- reaching for toys or attempting to get giant objects into you mouth- but you keep trying and fighting. You are happy but you are serious. You smile easily but quickly turn your attention back to the task at hand. You are attentive- always paying attention to the world around you, not wanting to miss a thing. You like people, sometimes wishing to play independently but wanting to have someone right there watching and encouraging you.
One year ago today we saw you for the first time. We couldn't wait to see you, meet you, find out who you were. We are so lucky that we get to be the ones to watch you discover yourself and discover the world. We love you, Melon, and can't wait to see who you become.
When we were doing night feedings more regularly you used to do this thing. When you were finished you, just about asleep, would let the bottle fall out of your mouth, purse your little lips and turn your head away. It was quite possible the sweetest and snootiest thing you could possibly do. I always imagined you saying "I'm done. Take that away from me, peasant." (silly, I know). This afternoon I was feeding you... and you did that thing. You hadn't done it in several weeks and I had already forgotten about it. I've been thinking about it since then. You will do many things- we humans have hundreds of thousands of little habits, quirks and patterns that make us who we are. They will change over time. But today- when you turned your sweet little head away- I was struck by an overwhelming urge to remember you right now. Not to lose track of all of the little things that fall away as you grow bigger. All of the little things that become the story of you becoming you... and your mama watching you and loving you more and more each day.