17, 18, 19 +1

Dear Evelyn,

It almost seems foolish to apologize. I think I just need to accept that I'm no good at getting these letters out on time anymore and move on. I actually began writing this about three weeks ago. I'd missed two months and thought I'd better just write something, but alas, I never finished it. So the letter today is a bit of a mess. I can't remember exactly what all has happened since November. It's been a lot. I can't tell you really how your 17th month was different from your 18th. I've lost track of it all, but it needs to be documented somehow, because your growth and progress is astonishing, and if I can't keep track of it three months later, how in the world will I remember in twenty years unless I write it down now?

Where to even begin? Your problem solving and mimicry skills are through the roof. We can't say something without you repeating it. When I brush my hair, you want to brush yours. You brush your teeth when I do (and with a zeal that is quite surprising). You use your toy keys to "start" the rocking moose before riding. You imitate animal noises without prompting. You try on my shoes. You blow on your food.

I've read that kids like to be helpers around this age, and you must have read it too, because you LOVE to help. You pick up stray pieces of Chokydar's food and put them back in her bowl. (That's gross to me, btw.) You hand me clean dishes out of the washer. You put wet clothes into the dryer for me. You help me sort socks. You put things back in drawers and cabinets. This, of course, is after you have systematically emptied said drawer/cabinet of its entire contents. I'm beginning to understand and sympathize with my mother's explanation for anything that went missing around the house: "That girl! Michele must have taken it!" I'm sorry, mother! You take trash to the can, open the lid and throw it away. You reprogram my cell phone's ringtones. Okay, wait, that one is not too helpful.

There have been some new additions to our lives these past few months. It seems ridiculous that we were ever without them now...Elmo is now a member of the family via dvd. And you love him. We love him less. Grover was always my favorite muppet, and I have covert plans to introduce you to Grover in hopes of changing your allegiance. Secondly, my good friend Kat gave you a doll when we visited Jersey that has since been named "Bebe" that is your FAVORITE toy. You sleep with Bebe (pound puppy still too, just Bebe has joined the pack), frequently eat with Bebe, talk to Bebe, travel with Bebe, "wash" Bebe's hands and face, and have administered "medicine" to Bebe. This of course, is also something new in these past few months--the emergence of your imagination. Your pretend play is wonderful to watch and also quite a relief, as you've stopped actually eating your wooden fruit and veggie play set in favor of pretend nibbling on it. There are accompanying sound effects.

You wave bye-bye to "Daa-ie" every morning when he leaves for work and squeal with delight when he comes home again. You love trips to the park and going outside. You have a fascination with pine cones. You have A LOT of teeth now. I've lost count. You are a charmer; strangers love you, as well as those who know you, of course. You can also be a drama queen. I hear that's karma coming back to get me from my childhood. I gave you your first haircut--gosh, back in November now? December? I saved the baby hairs, but now I can't remember where I put them... You play with ipod apps. You place our hands on your tummy and hold them there when we cuddle. You've been sleeping extremely well--usually until about 7 am and go to bed without a peep about 7-7:30 pm.

Nineteen months. It's hard to wrap my head around it.

I still love you more every day.

Love,

Mommy

Sixteen months, three days ago.

Dear Evelyn,

I'm going to be better. I did not write you a fourteen or fifteen month letter, and when I realized that Sunday was your 16 month marker I made up my mind to write you a letter this month. I figured I'd better catch up on where I left off, so I went back to read the last letter (13 months) and Evie, do you know what happened? I'm crying. I'm crying now, because you're growing up so fast. Right before my eyes, honey, and I'm amazed and proud and terrified. When last I wrote, you were not yet walking.

And now?

You are running.

You are dancing to theme songs.

You love to try on hats.

You help me to dress you.

You have a limited amount a patience (as opposed to none at all).

You "read" books by yourself.

You "talk" all the time.

You mimic things that we do.

You do movements along to the songs we sing.

You want to help me with everything I'm doing. Sometimes this is helpful and sometimes just "helpful."

You can open and operate a variety of cell phones. And flip car keys.

You give Chokydar kisses.

You have a favorite stuffed animal (the pound puppy that was mine as a child).

You LOVE drinking from "normal people" glasses.

You kiss yourself in mirrors.

You love carrying around pillows so as to have a convenient place to fall over laughing.

You have a love bordering on obsession with my grandmother's Huphrey Hug-a-bear that I know would bring her no end of joy.

You understand most instructions and we've started to discipline you in earnest.

You give koala bear hugs where you stick on our necks tighter than velcro.

You are a major problem solver.

You love opening and closing cabinets.

You also love hiding things in cabinets. This has led me to ask you where missing items might be, and you are 1) not only able to recognize the question but also 2) sometimes able to find the item. Evelyn, this is amazing.

You have empathy for Chokydar when she's worried or barking. You say "Uh oooooh!" when you drop something.

You light up our lives and bring us indescribable joy.

Love,

Momma

Thirteen months old (yesterday)

Bumblelamb,

Yesterday you became thirteen months old. I know you can’t count quite yet, but when you get older and look back over these posts you’ll realize we’ve encountered a problem. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, thirteen. That’s right. I’ve dutifully been writing these love letters to you monthly--every thirty some-odd days since you arrived on the scene--only last month for the big ONE, I didn’t do it. I could blame it on the move, on crazy schedules and busy times; saying goodbye to friends, on packing and preparations, but if I’m being honest with myself and you, it’s because I’m having a bit of a hard time coming to grips with you growing up.

You’re not yet walking (although you’re sooooo close), but to me, I think you’re already a toddler rather than a baby. Every time I say this your father responds with, “No! She’s still a baby!” I think you always will be to him, just fyi. You’re still making leaps and bounds with your motor skills—gross and fine, you’re babbling to anyone who will listen or sometimes to no one at all, you are quite the problem solver and have a great sense of humor. Your father or I will call out excitedly, “Did you see that??” when you do something amazing, like stand on your own and balance unassisted for half a minute or so. But there’s some X factor that’s taking place, Lamby, and you’re metamorphosing in front of my very eyes.

You’re down to two nursings a day now, and I think you’re about to go down to one, as we’ll probably eliminate the morning session any time now. You’re trying new foods and sampling off of our plates as well. I can’t wait to get back to the states to see what new things we can experiment with. You’ve been resisting your morning nap in favor of a single afternoon nap as well. You love to play on the floor with your daddy or “run away” down the hall and have us chase after you. You’re very graceful, but when you fall, you fall spectacularly. In all honesty, it scares the bejeebies out of me every time it happens. You face plant after a false step and go from all smiles to wails of pain and fear. Before I can even assess the state of your busted lip you’re squirming out of my lap, eager to go knock yourself silly again.

It’s really clear now that you can understand a good deal of what I’m saying—if not word for word, than certainly the intent or tone comes through. You respond to simple commands or questions with an inquisitive look, smile, or pout. You have a “new face” that is something akin to a wide eyed, teeth bared (you have four now, btw—teeth, that is) grimace that is used when you are surprised, taken aback by something, or are unsure. Chokydar brings about this look a lot. I’ve got to get a picture of it, because it is totally priceless. You can sometimes handle “no” without much ado, but other times it can send you into a complete fit, stomping feet and all.

You’re liberal with your kisses, and are, on occasion, a biter. You like playing with my yarn. You love “reading.” You prefer the letters “O,” “Q,” and “B,” and “D.” You rock out to hip hop, oldies, and Motown. You point your toes like a ballet dancer and like to brush your teeth with Baby Orajel.

This time next month, we’ll be in America. There are so many things I want to show you, I don’t even know where to start. I know that you won’t remember your time here in Germany, but it has been a happy time, for the most part, and you have been such a source of joy for us in this past year.

I love you. I can’t say it enough.

Love,

Mommy

Eleven months old today!!!

Evie B,

This month’s primary nickname has emerged as “B” or “Evie B” or one of several other variations on the theme. “B” is multipurpose—is it for bumblebee? Baby? Beautiful? All of the above. Likewise B, you are developing many new faces, and I can’t soak up enough of you.

Your daddy is home. He came home on the 22nd of May and this is the first of your “birthdays” for which he is present. You and he have adjusted better than I could have dreamed to one another, and although you still prefer me for certain things (nobody does comforting like Momma), your eyes light up when you see your daddy of a morning. As I’m writing this letter to you I’ve just asked him if he can think of additional things about you he’s noticed that I should add—“Umm…just that she’s freakin’ AWESOME.” You cannot imagine how much he loves you. I think even he is surprised by it.

With so many friends now home, we’ve been doing more socializing than we were before, and you are such a trooper. (Nearly) Always polite, quiet, and bright eyed, you charm guests and enjoy watching the grown-ups interact and visit. The only difficulty is because you want to go until you drop; you’re an energizer bunny and it is very difficult to tear you away from the fun for some much needed rest. It’s been unchartered territory in many ways this month, adjusting to a New Old way of life. It is new and sometimes difficult and a bit frustrating at times, but I’ve never been happier in my entire life.

You are growing and learning so much every day. Your father has commented that you’ve gotten noticeably bigger even since he’s been home. You certainly are a handful these days. You are so close to walking now—pulling up is so easy it’s a joke to you now and you cruise from furniture to helping hands to boxes to Chokydar with such rapidity I know your first unassisted steps are near. You are daring in your exploration, and have managed some really impressive feats—using a box to climb on in order to get to things otherwise out of reach on the ottoman, for instance. You are such a clever girl and squeal with a glance over your shoulder, mischievous gleam in your eyes and a sweet smile on your lips when you are called out before doing something out of bounds. You smile and giggle, then turn to scoot off for something else of interest, most likely also out of bounds.

You’re babbling more and more these days, and “mama” and “dada” are frequently heard, if not particularly assigned to the proper parent. I have the very distinct impression, however, that you understand more of what I’m saying. Your facial expression changes not only in response to my tone, but also certain words. It’s incredible and has me suddenly very conscious of everything I say.

With your daddy home, I am now turning my attention to the coming months and the preparation for our return to the states. It promises to be a busy time, squeezing in some last travel opportunities, planning for a trans-Atlantic move, and saying goodbye to friends and the only home you’ve known. I am so grateful for your flexibility and easy going spirit—I think you will take the changes and excitement in stride.

I cannot believe that next month you will be a year old. The time is really slipping by now. I feel as though I blink and another week has been whisked away. We see babies out around post with their parents walking like newborn colts and know you are not far behind. The changes that will come in this next year are sure to happen so fast, it blows my mind.

Love,

Momma

Ten months old today!!!

Look! I even got the pictures up with the letter!!!























Dear E,
This month I totally did remember to take notes along the way of all of the amazing strides you started making, but now…I can’t remember what I did with the paper. It’s around here somewhere…but I get the feeling the things listed there would be out of date already—that even though they happened and were new at the beginning of this month, they would already feel like a lifetime ago. Just in the past few weeks you’ve had some incredible new developments. I can’t believe you’re 10 months old. That’s two digits. Ten seems so much older than nine. You’re so close to a year old now, it’s ridiculous, and I find myself stunned at the prospect of being the mother of a one year old. When did this happen?

Evelyn, this month you grew not one, but TWO teeth. The first one was the right of the bottom center two, and now the left fella is coming in. They are adorable. I never knew teeth could be so cute. Somehow this month your overall cuteness has been almost overwhelming, and even more than ever before I can’t seem to resist the urge to nibble on your feet and kiss your little nose and every other inch of you. It is borderline obscene how cute you are. Oh, and I don’t think I’ve mentioned it in a while, but you have gorgeous eyes. Seriously. They are sometimes grey, sometimes hazel, and sometimes look more green. Whatever color they are, they are framed by thick gorgeous lashes and are alight with curiosity and observation.

Food has become an issue for us in that this month you became sort of, orange. Actually, I think you’ve been gradually becoming orange for a while now, but this month it got to the point where I felt I needed to check and make sure you’re alright. (On the day we returned from the clinic one of the neighbors asked if you’d been “baby tanning.” I’m not sure that she was joking.) The conclusion seems to be that you have too much carotene in your diet, and although it’s a perfectly harmless condition that will fade with time, it definitely was a concern that loomed over a great portion of this month. You continue to really enjoy mealtimes, though, especially finger foods and feeding yourself. In one of those aforementioned moments of overwhelming cuteness, you very clearly wanted to share and thus fed me a Cheerio. Swoon. What a sweet girl you are. Hardly a meal goes by now that you don’t want to share something with me, and of course, you love sharing with Chokydar too.

You’ve begun to attempt conversation with me as well. A favorite game is tongue clicking back and forth. You click. I click. You click again. The possibilities are endless! You really enjoy animal sounds, especially the hissing of a snake and a sheep’s “baa.” Your sense of humor is starting to emerge in earnest too. Certain expressions and noises I can count on to leave you in stitches. Sometimes I’m not sure what you’re laughing at, but it makes me laugh all the same, which you find very funny in turn, and we just feed off each other infectiously.

Some of the most exciting stuff (motor skills wise) has begun to happen just in the last week. The first event was when you managed to pull yourself up on the ottoman. I was so proud of you and was nearly moved to tears by the look of pure joy and accomplishment radiating from your face. The next day, catching the wave of your momentum, you not only pulled up on the ottoman, but cruised around the perimeter—yes, that’s right—you made your way from point A to B WHILE STANDING. You were as wobbly as a new born colt and giggled with glee the whole way. A few days later your moonwalk crawl transformed before my eyes into a full out, belly off the floor crawl, not only backwards, but forwards too! This leaves me scrambling because I’ve been putting off a serious baby-proofing outside of your usual play area and “mop” has been bumped to the top of my to-do list.

In a matter of DAYS/weeks now, Evelyn, your daddy will be coming home to live with us again! As much as I’ve talked to you about this, I am prepared for it to come as something of a shock and surprise to have someone new sharing in our day to day lives. I can only tell you HOW ECSTATIC I am to have your father home after SO LONG and how much he loves you. We are so excited at the prospect of being under the same roof again and I know that he is nervously and excitedly anticipating getting to know you in person. He has fallen deeper and deeper in love with you from a distance, and I’m delirious with joy to get to watch you and he learn all about one another.

I love you always and always,

Mommy



And here's one more video of the crawling! Very similar to the other I posted, except I really love Choky just quietly observing from the background. Believe me, it is taking every ounce of her willpower to not try and play with Evie's feet as she crawls.

Nine months old today!!!!

Dearest Evie,

I forgot again to take notes this month along the way of all your developments, and as I sit down to write this I know I’m going to forget to include so much of what’s happened this month. I’m so glad I’ve been writing these letters for you because, well, my memory sucks and without your father here to remember actual events, if we didn’t have these letters your childhood would be an absolute mystery.

I think the biggest thing by far this month has been the real emergence of your will. You’ve never had a problem making yourself heard, but it wasn’t always clear what you were after. Now, however, it’s pretty clear. You let me know clearly that you do NOT want to be strapped into the car seat. Actually, that goes for being strapped in anywhere—the “high-chair” (counter chair?) where you eat, the swing. Being strapped in is not one of your favorite things and you certainly do your best to wriggle out of your tethers.

You’re more mobile all around, and although you’re technically not yet crawling, it’s pretty darn close. I call it the “moonwalk crawl” because your hands and knees never seem to leave the ground and yet you glide along with surprising agility. You’re just starting to lift yourself into an “official” crawling pose, all the way back on your knees, so you may be looking to evolve your locomotion method once more in the coming days. You’re able to pull yourself up on my hands and are trying desperately to figure out how to pull up on furniture. You’re not there yet, but I can CLEARLY see it in your eyes when you stare intently at the ottoman or sofa and your hands twirl in this characteristic circular motion that means your wheels are REALLY turning.

That’s something else that’s pretty new—the thinking hand twist. It’s a concentrating thing, like people who stick out there tongue or chew on a pencil when thinking. Whenever you see something particularly interesting, you hands and fingers start this slow rotation at the wrist, sort of like you’re practicing Obi Wan’s jedi mind trick. Anyway, standing is VERY exciting for you (and me, of course!), and although you’re wobbly as a newborn colt when you use me as a stand, you’re surprisingly steady on your feet when supporting yourself on the sofa. I think you take offense a little bit at the idea of getting too much help from me, and thus fight it a little when I support you, causing yourself to be thrown off balance a bit. When it’s just you and the sofa, you’re not as worried with proving that you’re able to do it yourself and thus fare a little better. You giggle and giggle uncontrollably when standing (even when struggling against my hands) and your joy is infectious. You’re a super wiggle worm when I hold you now, and as you giggle and twist, you have complete faith that no matter how you squirm, I will keep hold of you. We dance and clap now, and you can’t get enough of it.

You’ve continued to eat new foods, although here again you’re asserting your will more clearly. You’ve begun—I think it’s just playing—doing “blubber lips” when I’ve given you a full mouth of food, and thus cover me in baby spit plus whatever it is you’re eating. Not cool, Evelyn. I mean, it is pretty funny, but all in all, it just can’t fly and this month marks the first time I’ve made you cry by telling you NO. You got me really good with a mouth full of prunes (remind me to show you how this feels one day) and I reduced you to tears with one stern word of reprimand. I felt really bad, but held my ground. This is harder for me than I thought it would be, Evelyn, and ALWAYS remember that I do the things I do because I LOVE YOU. You weigh 17.6 lbs which puts you in the 25th percentile for your age. You're at the 50th percentile for your length and I don't think I should worry, but people have called you "small." This is something I'm still working on, Evie, but try not to let other people affect your self-worth. You are fine just as you are and people will always try to classify you on their own terms. God made you perfectly YOU, and He knows what He's doing.

As the weather is much nicer these days, we’ve been enjoying walks lately. You are so excited by everything around us; I watch your legs kicking non-stop with glee from my birds’ eye view of you in the stroller. I talk to you about the things we see along the way and every so often you throw your head back and gaze up at me upside-down with a wide, toothless grin than dims the sun. Laughter and more kicky feet ensue.

You are becoming keenly observant of finer details too. You hear the distant chirping or cawing of birds and go still (hands twirling). You hear the “you’ve got mail” noise while in your exersaucer and crane your head over to try and see around the sofa and catch a glimpse of what’s happening on the television (that’s where the sound comes out; the computer’s hooked up through the tv). I show you pictures or a new book or you talk to Paparazzi (Granddaddy) and Nana on Skype and you are soooo enrapt. Chokydar got a haircut last week, and to see you watch me cut her hair—you would have thought I was splitting an atom, it was THAT AMAZING.

We’re counting the hours now until Daddy is home with us again, Evelyn, and although you are super excited every time the phone rings, I don’t think you can possibly grasp how fantastic things are about to be. Daddy is way better than me at tickling. He plays most games better, and he gives really good hugs. You’re going to LOVE him, and believe me, he already loves you, more than you will ever know.

Goodnight my sweet, talented, clever, beautiful child. I love you. I can’t wait until tomorrow.

Love,

Mommy

Eight months old! (Yesterday!)

Dear Evelyn,

I jinxed myself. I just finished saying last post that I hadn’t missed a letter deadline yet, and of course here I am today a day late. This week I’ve been—what’s the word…ah yes, lazy. I put off doing my homework for class and realized last night that the lesson closed a day earlier than I thought, so your letter was sacrificed for a day. I did take pictures on time this month, though! Now I just have to get them posted…

So, eight months old! There are several noticeable things we’re still waiting on—teeth, for one. No teeth yet. You’re not yet crawling yet either, but you are more and more mobile. Your preferred locomotive activity is best described as ‘spinning.’ You like to lay or your tummy and rotate yourself around as if pivoting on your belly button in complete 360 degree sweeps, around and around. You’re quite quick at it, and between that and rolling, you’re able to get to most things you covet.

You really enjoy “reading” books with me, and especially like turning the pages yourself. This seems like such a big girl thing to me; I’m so impressed by you!

You have discovered that it is possible to sit up in your swing. This to me looks like a great feat of balance to maintain an upright position as you rock to and fro. You have only begun doing this in the past few days and I see it as the beginnings of you outgrowing your swing. That should be an interesting transition in the coming months…

You’ve been much better this month (knock on wood) about napping and sleeping. Your naps have been much more predictable during the day—in part I think because you’re eating more solids now too. At night you’ve adjusted your schedule to going to bed a bit earlier. We start heading that way sometimes as early as 8 pm now, and often you’re fast asleep 20-30 minutes later and don’t stir until 6 or 7 am. I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am for this.

Like I said, you’re eating a fairly wide variety of baby foods now, and enjoying nearly all of them. I can see that Chokydar is beginning to see you in a new light—as the occasional heavenly source of food. She hovers beneath you at meal times now and I see the day coming when you realize what she’s after and take great pleasure in fulfilling her puppy-eyed requests.

Your hair has always been long, but it’s getting SO long now, I have to pull it back or it covers your face. I’m even able to give you a baby pony tail. You’re also getting super curious about your surroundings and are especially alert in new places. When we go out I’ve taken to carrying you facing forward, otherwise you twist and contort yourself over backwards trying to get a better vantage point of where we’re headed. You have a smile for nearly everyone we meet now; a huge toothy grin that is usually followed immediately by you burying your head coyly in my shoulder. This is just about the cutest thing anyone has ever seen, especially because you then pop back up to flash another grin. You’re a big hit around town for sure.

I know I’ve missed mentioning stuff this month, baby. Things were moving so quickly I didn’t take notes along the way and I’m just sure I’ve forgotten to talk about half of the new things you’ve begun doing. Your smile and bright curious eyes keep me entranced every day and I just pray that I can be the mother you deserve.

Love,

Mommy

Seven months old today!

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.

Love,
Mommy

Six months old today!!!

Dearest Evelyn,

Can you believe it? You’re six months old today. I can scarcely believe the time has gone so quickly. There were nights in there I thought would never end, but looking back on it all, it seems a blur. I try to keep notes of your developments so that it’s easier to write each letter to you, and as I look back at this month, I’m amazed by your progress. Each month to this point has had milestones of course, but somehow you’ve kicked it into overdrive. I don’t think I’ll come anywhere close to capturing all that’s gone on this month, and if I’m already at this point, what hope is there from here on out?? I’ll just have to do my best to capture as many noteworthy developments and then ask you to take all that I’ve described, and then square it.

This month you’ve really discovered your tongue. The ferocity with which you explore its capabilities was almost alarming at first. I must admit that I had a brief moment when I imagined all the clicking and sputtering you suddenly began doing might be some kind of allergic reaction. I would categorize its activity roughly as the equivalent of interpretive dancing. For being rooted in your mouth, it is the most expressive, playful, and devious little body part. You amuse yourself by blowing raspberries for minutes on end and use it as a means to attract attention. This is yet another reason I wish your father were here—I am sure he would take up the mantel of blowing raspberries right back at you…personally I hate the way the vibrations make my tongue and lips feel. I love you so much, I give myself the heebie jeebies returning your raspberry so that your tongue communication will not go unreciprocated.

About the same time that your tongue kicked into overdrive, you also began slapping your hand on any surface within reach. Counter tops, the exersaucer, you name it. Preferably the surface is a hard one, because the noise is much more satisfying, you’ve observed. The papers on my desk are no longer safe when you sit in my lap. You are deeply intrigued by all things paper, and are desperate to get a glimpse of what magazine ink tastes like. Thus far, I have thwarted your attempts.

You began solid foods this month—so far you regularly consume rice cereal and on occasion have tried bananas and applesauce. The rice cereal is a major hit; the fruits so far are still a bit foreign. You like to assist me bringing the spoon to your mouth. When I use the spoon to try and scrape spilled contents from off your chin or cheeks you look at me as if I’ve been hitting the bottle. “Silly Mommy…that’s not my mouth. You’re not even close.” You then grab on and try to steady your poor “inebriated” mother back to the place where the spoon belongs.

You’ve made major strides with your attempts at sitting. Right before Christmas you had your first spill, face first into the carpet, not realizing that your arms where necessary in their tripod position as support. You now ride in the front of the shopping cart at the commissary instead of your infant carrier. This has been an exciting development, and you have the habit of trying to crane your neck and head backwards in order to see where we’re going.

You’re not crawling yet, but you’ve discovered that rolling over has the ability to offer more than just a new visual perspective. You’ve mastered the art of the double and triple roll, propelling yourself laterally a surprising distance. You sometimes do this purposefully in an attempt to reach an otherwise unattainable object. Other times, you roll simply for the joy of it, and are thrilled to find yourself off the blanket I have carefully spread for your play on the floor, which is so boringly free of puli and carpet hair, as well as dirt tracked in from outside.

If it is possible, Evelyn, you’re even cuter than last month. Your cheeks are so adorable and full; all the neighborhood squirrels are envious. They are reliably rosy. You’ve definitely got your father’s eyelashes—they are L-O-N-G and dark. You smile freely and widely. You actually have two smiles—one that is enough to light up a room, and another that should be classified as a clean source of alternate energy, capable of lighting entire city blocks. This nuclear smile makes your eyes dance with joy and I’m pretty sure I go temporarily blind from its brilliance—and you don’t even have any teeth yet!

You’re really engaged now when I read to you and you are a very observant listener. You watch my lips move when I talk as well, and are inextricably fond of the letter “k.” The letter “k” is hilarious.

You’ve also started actually playing with me. This is a hugely exciting milestone, and I can scarcely get enough of playing peek-a-boo. I think I may enjoy it even more than you, which is saying something. I throw a blanket over your head and ask “Where’s Evie?” You wiggle around momentarily while giggling in anticipation and then throw the blanket off your face with your hands with a smile that exclaims, “Here I am!”

Did I say take all I’ve describe and square it? I think it needs to be cubed, more like.

Evelyn, your father and I love you so much.

Loveⁿ,

Mommy

Five months old today!

Dear Evelyn,

You’re 5 months old today! You woke up this morning as if you knew it was a special day—all smiles and exploding into laughter and kicks when you saw me approach. You’re so much more aware of your surroundings nowadays. When you enter a room, you gaze around, wide-eyed, taking in EVERYTHING. You crane your neck around as far as you can reach it, left and right, and then backwards, nearly tipping yourself over. Your neck craning has become a rather humorous habit during meals. You stop nursing at random to whip your head around in the opposite direction to make sure we haven’t somehow moved while you’ve been occupied. Any noise or movement is enough to cause this occurrence, and sometimes it takes nothing at all.

Another funny eating habit you’ve developed is “the wandering hand.” Whichever hand is topside, you extend fully and slowly wave it around, feeling like a blind person across the neck of my sweater, my chin, nose and mouth. If I look down at you I have to be careful or you’ll have my glasses off in the blink of an eye. I also have to guard against accidental nose spelunking.

I can tell you are able to see clearly across the room now, as you often smile at me when I smile from the doorway. Maybe you’ll have inherited your father’s eyesight…mine’s getting worse every year. You have figured out that sounds come from a particular place too, and can tell the direction from which a noise has originated. It may seem like a small thing, but I can tell it makes such a big difference in your observations. You’re mostly used to Chokydar’s mental barking bursts, but lately I’ve noticed you are startled when I cough or sneeze. When you do it, it’s no big deal (at least to you…“She can COUGH!?” Your daddy asked when he heard you on the phone the other day), but somehow it’s a little disconcerting coming from me.

You’ve been enjoying your exersaucer for the first time this month. You really like being upright and are getting really good at manipulating the various objects around the perimeter. Your hands and fingers are really getting the hang of how to operate—it’s amazing the amount of progress you’ve made here particularly from last month. When I give you your daily dose of vitamins from a dropper, you now guide my hand to and from your mouth, conducting the pace and direction of my approach. You’ll be starting some rice cereal soon I’m sure.

Nothing is safe anymore if it’s within your reach. Papers on my desk, the wire from my drawing tablet—they’re all so enchanting! I put a couple of extra things around on the tray on your exersaucer, including a wooden block and a soft plastic photo book which you LOVE to chew on. You squeal and holler in delight as you mouth it, and I can’t help but descend into laughter as your vocalizations get more and more expressive. You continue this until it escalates to the point when I have to take it away from you and place it behind you, because you’ve begun to express yourself in baby-equivalent expletives. It doesn’t take you long to work your way around the exersaucer and find it again with a squeal of delight, and the conversation begins again—always politely at the start.

This has definitely been the month of the squeal. You love squealing as loud as you can, and often times your father will have to wait for you to stop before he tries to continue talking over the phone. Opera star? Auctioneer? I see endless career opportunities spreading out before your feet…

You rolled over earlier this month, both from back to front and front to back, all in the same go. You do it occasionally, but still prefer to be on your back most of the time when you’re horizontal. You’re getting pretty good at sitting up with minimal support though. I prop you up with the boppy pillow behind for safety, but you’re able to sit up for seconds at a time all by yourself. I imagine you’ll make lots of progress over the next month on this front.

Your wheezy laugh is beginning to transform into a full voiced giggle. It has just begun in the last few days, but it’s enough to start me laughing which results in us cascading back and forth in laughter for several minutes.

Finally, you’re personality is coming out more and more. When we’re at home or in the car you’re usually “talking”—making some kind of noise or other, but as soon as we’re out in public, you’re quite quiet and observant, wide eyed and rather somber. This is pretty useful as I can usually count on you to be impressively “grown-up” when you accompany me to meetings or other events. You are pretty easy going, and enjoy playing on your own, but are always glad to have me join in the fun. You are quick to smile and laugh. You light my days with your sparkling eyes.

Love everyday and always,

Mommy