Seriously? Five months old you are? (And apparently Yoda I have become?) Wasn't it just yesterday that I was prepping for surgery, trying to mentally prepare for the arrival of my daughter?
BSparl, you are getting BIG. Of course, in your case, "big" is a relative term, because you're barely clocking in at the 25th percentile for height and weight, but for your little peanuty-ness, you are kicking ass AND taking names. Rolling over is so last month, and you're now working hard on creeping along the floor. If you roll over onto your front, you are quick to get on your knees and try to scoot along on the ground. I think we're just a few short weeks away from crawling, and once you're mobile, we're in deep ... stuff.
You've discovered your voice, and you love testing it out. Sometimes you'll play on your playmat and YELL at your toys, hollering your face off as you tell the teething monkey toy, "Your feet are MINE!" You babble incessantly: at your toys, at your feet, at the shower curtain while I'm showering, at the video monitor attached to your crib (that's a fun one, having you look right into the camera and say "AHHHHHHH!"), and at anyone who makes eye contact with you. Waiters at restaurants are now the recipients of your highly audible HI!!!s and your drooly grins. You want to chat up everyone in the world, and when they give you a smile, you throw one right back at them. You're a friendly little bird, and your agreeable nature is contagious.
You are also helping me earn my mommy stripes. Like yesterday. We visited Target to pick up a few things, and you ended up giving me the gift of a massively filled diaper while we were there. No worries - we just went into the bathroom to take care of business, but while we were in there, you were accosted by a sweet older lady who wanted to tell you what a cutie you were. To thank her for her kind words, you proceeded to dip your socks into your icky diaper, leaving a trail of messiness in its wake. And it wasn't until we were back out in the store that I realized the same messiness had ended up streaked up my arm. Awesome. Walking around Target, literally covered in poop. Thank you, little bird, for making me feel like a real deal mommy. (And thank you, People of Target, for letting me open and use every hand wipe in aisle 12. I felt strange paying for empty containers of wipes at the checkout counter, but the cashier didn't ask, and I wasn't going to tell.)
This past month, you had your first extended overnight stay at Grammie's house while we were traveling, many visits to Home Depot (the guys in the flooring department love you), and we're getting ready for some solid food in the next week or two. And later this week, you'll be sleeping in your own bedroom in the Big Crib (which looks like a football field when your teeny self is in it). You like going for walks in the stroller, and visiting the mall (you also appear to like Ann Taylor, smart girly), and losing socks.
And I've heard that beautiful sound on your lips a few times today. That "mmmm-mmmm" sound. The one that will eventually lead to "Mama." I can't wait to hear my new name from your sweet little mouth.