a girl, a guy, a tomato, a bean, and a bear

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Seven months old today!

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Evie Sweet,

I did a double take when I realized what day it was today. Seven months old? I am the mother of a seven month old? It hardly seems possible, yet here we are. I’m starting to see glimpses of you as child rather than baby. This is very exciting to me, and, as odd as this sounds, slightly surprising. I’m fully aware that you’re on a one way trip to growing up, but sometimes I get so caught up in the day-to-day that I am caught by surprise when you make a sudden leap along your path.

Talking, for instance. In some ways, the idea of you gaining the power of speech is ridiculous. You and I talk now the way Chokydar and I talk. I say something to you, then I imagine what you say back and we have a conversation—okay, I have a conversation. But lately, Evelyn, you’re reminding me that you in fact WILL talk. Real words. Words that have meaning. Of course, you’re not there yet, but thanks to your tongue acrobatics, you’re adding new sounds to your “vocabulary.” This month you’ve started saying “da da” and “ga ga.” These sound so much more like actual words than anything you’ve come up with to date, it just blows my mind.

You look more grown up too. I remember after you were first born running into other mothers with 6 or 7 month old babies. I thought to myself, “Whoa! Monster babies!!” because they still looked more or less like babies, but they were HUGE. You’re probably a Monster Baby yourself at this point, but to me, you’re starting to look more like a toddler than an infant. Again, this is mostly exciting, but I find that it’s a discovery that is tinged with sadness. Although we are getting so close to having Daddy home with us again, it’s really sinking in that he will, to no fault of his own, have nearly missed this first phase of you. I’m glad that you won’t have any memory of him being away, but sometimes the pain of his absence stings me sharply for his sake and my own.

Speaking of sharp pains, did you know that you’re part Vulcan? Or at least you picked up some of Mr. Spock’s tricks in those early months when I watched all of that Star Trek. Lately you’ve taken to trying your hand at the Vulcan neck pinch. You’re quite adept at it, and are very amused by the reaction its application elicits from me. You also really enjoy taking the glasses off my face. This I find amusing as well, although baby fingerprints are slightly more difficult to remove than you would think, and I fear for the day when you pinch your fingers in the hinge. So far we’ve avoided it, but I think it must happen at some point.

Your curiosity is really starting to peak, and you have a knack for getting into things I’d rather you not. I’ve been crocheting and cutting fabric for a quilt, and where a month ago it was safe to leave the projects a short distance from you on the floor, it is no longer wise to do so. You’re like the Magneto of the crafting world, drawing all things crafty toward you by some unseen mutant force. You’re not yet crawling, but you can roll, wiggle and stretch your way over to something a few feet away with surprising agility.

You and Chokydar are really starting to enjoy one another as well. She keeps bringing you her toys. I’m not sure if she hopes you’ll throw them for her, or if she’s hoping for an exchange program to play with some of yours, but of course you see the gift as something new to put in your mouth. I’m constantly watching to make sure you don’t digest puli slobber. She LOVES licking you and you are quite amused by it yourself. While she’s close enough to lick you, you often take the opportunity to grab a fist full of her plentiful hair, often somewhere in the vicinity of her mouth. This really confuses Choky, as she’s not sure how to extricate herself from your vice-like grip. She will often sit there, trying to continue licking you sideways and throwing me imploring glances for assistance.

You can sit on your own now, completely unassisted, and can even catch yourself and correct your balance much of the time. You enjoy a good spill on a soft surface like the bed, and sometimes I think you play face first “timber” on purpose.

This month was a slightly more difficult one in terms of your sleeping habits. You’ve continued to sleep well at night, and even go to bed really pretty easily, all things considered. During the day, however, it can be a different story. For about a week you flat out refused to nap except in my lap after nursing yourself to sleep. I began piling books and papers on the couch just so I’d have something productive to occupy myself with during the time you’d sleep. It was worth it to be immobile for a while rather than have a perpetually cranky Evelyn. The rest of the month it’s been a bit more touch and go. Some days you’ll nap like a pro and others you flatly refuse. I can’t tell if it’s something I’m doing differently, so I can only hope it will sort itself out with time.

You are using both hands to play with and manipulate toys, and you’ve started really experimenting with the noises things can make by banging them together. You also have started clapping your hands with mine. You haven’t figured out you can put both of yours together for the same effect…yet. Oh, and while in your exersaucer you’ve begun dropping toys over the edge onto the floor and then looking to see where they’ve gone. It’s so simple, yet the first time you did it weeks ago, I was so proud of you and your deductive skills. You amaze me!

You still do not have any teeth. We’ve gone through many different pureed fruits and veggies so far, and you are an enthusiastic and skilled eater, save for peas. You do not like peas. True to your nature, though, you’re very polite in your refusal of the peas…most of the time at least. You have an amazingly patient demeanor for a baby, and are very, very observant. When I read to you I can see you scanning the page intently and follow closely as I point to different things on the page.

I tell you every day, but just so you know, and always know—I love you, Evelyn, more than you can ever imagine.



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