So Maren is now closer to one year old than an itty bitty newborn. As shown in her brief 7 month photo shoot, her biggest debut has yet to arrive--Teeth!!! But she can still gum up a paper with fierce efficiency. Read on for the letter to Maren on this first month over the crest of halfway!!
MareBear,
When I met your father I thought for sure that he was my one and only love. Seven months after meeting you for the first time, I find myself thinking that that was quite a silly notion. Because while its certainly a different version of love, the way I feel about you can be described in no other way.
I suppose Ive loved you since well before you were born. I loved the idea of you. Then I loved the thought of you. Then I loved the weight of you and the feeling of your flutters and kicks. Then I loved the look of you--so bright eyed and skeptical within your first few moments of joining the outside world. And eventually I loved the sound of you--that one took a little longer to warm up to what with your initial crying breaking my sleep patterns every two hours and the continuation of those cries breaking my concentration, my heart, and occasionally my sanity. I still go back and forth on loving the smell of you, depending on whether its dirty diaper or fresh bath. But I always love being with you.
And the time I spend with you remains special and endearing as I watch you grow and change. Just one month ago you had just discovered the life changing act of rolling. Initially you weren't too fond of it, seeming to see it as more of a hassle and needless exertion rather than a thrill. However, a week or two later the occasional roll became the preferred mode of transportation, carrying you across a room in an impressive 3-5 minutes, even less if something caught your covetous eye like a remote control, cell phone, or cat. Now that we're a few more weeks removed from that first roll, the flip happens in a blink, and within an instant you are falling off a changing pad, dangerously close to the edge of the bed, within centimeters of your noggin meeting a sharp furniture corner, or just irritating mom and dad as you flop around like a fish out of water when we try to change your soiled diaper.
And still, as your sixth month came to a close and you reached the seven month milestone you moved on to yet another outlet for your energy...the pre crawl. Youre constantly rocking on all fours, pulling your crib bumper down like a jail bird to see what lays beyond that aquamarine fuzzy fabric. Youve finally done enough ab work to graduate to a steady sitter, where you play with rattles, blocks, anything with lights, books, or your own toes for what seems like eternity but what is actually about 10 minutes. Theres always a point where you decide youre done with the strenuous core strengthening that sitting provides and you voluntarily slump to the side and resume a more youthful position on your back or belly.
Sadly your disdain for all foods other than sweet potatoes and squash is still in full effect but hopefully repeat exposure, or old fashioned forced feeding, will add wisdom and variety to your tastebuds. Speaking of buds, your two front teeth are arriving, albeit on some kind of slow train akin to overcrowded public transit with mechanical problems. Every week I think this is the week we will see those little gems that have been causing you so much discomfort for so many months, but each week your gums just get to be a paler shade of pink with no enamel breaking the surface. Maybe next week...yeah right!
By the time the teeth make their long awaited debut, Im sure you'll be a changed girl once again, and we too, as parents will be changed as well. According to the expert baby book authors, month seven may bring separation anxiety and feelings of stranger danger and it seems like you might have been reading those books because youre right on track with your increased neediness and desire to be with your father or I at all times. Lucky for you we both adore you so being held captive by your desires is not a terrible fate for us just yet, unless its one of those moments when you smell like a dirty diaper, then its time for a quick game of paper-rock-scissors to see who wins the chance to spend even more time with you engaging in the fish flopping action of a diaper change on a girl who wants nothing more than to ride her changing pad like a pony.
Looking forward to a fun seventh month. Love you endlessly,
Momma
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