Just under three weeks ago you turned six months old. I know, I know...what the hell am I doing writing this three weeks later? The truth is, I just haven't found the time. You are so incredibly important to me that I want to spend every free minute I can hanging out with you. That—and your unwillingness to take nice long naps—puts a damper on my letter writing time.
28 weeks (with guest appearance by Hip O.)
A major growth spurt—both mentally & physically—has occurred for you over the past several weeks. Around 23 weeks, I started making a list of things you had experienced. Here are a few of the things we've seen and done with you:
Blowing raspberries (zerberts) on my arm sitting in the yard.
Blowing raspberries at me with your little tongue sticking out.
Just sticking out your tongue in general.
Grunting and screaming like Godzilla.
Understanding cause & effect (9.2) by trying to turn rainforest "tv" on.
Sitting up unassisted like a big guy.
Giving kisses—big, open-mouthed, drool-filled, on my cheek
Crawling! (week of 9.20)
This is by no means a complete list. In reality it all happened several weeks ago and I just never got back to adding to it. You've done so much more. It's like you woke up one morning and thought to yourself, "I am really digging this world I live in and I think I'd like to explore every inch of it. Right.Now. You crawl and sit like a champ. If you're on the floor and you see something you want—look out—in approximately 15 seconds you'll be across the room and honing in on your target.
One thing in particular that you are fascinated by is the toe kick that separates the kitchen and the dining room. Something about the gold phillips head screws inset into the thick natural woods captivates you. I could wash an entire sink full of dishes with you sprawled out on your belly several feet away inspecting that minute architectural detail like it was lost treasure.
How did they get that screw in there?
This past month has been a whirlwind for you. We do so much exploring that the ordinary is becoming fascinating again to me. When you get mesmerized by a sight or sound that I've been desensitized too I ponder how that must be for you. To experience something—like the sound of water swishing in a bottle—for what might be the first conscious time in your life. It's very cool.
Getting a book.
Reading with Mommy.
You are really smart and have a personality that is often lacking in the world. You are nothing if not the cutest, most charming and well-behaved baby I have ever met. That seems to be the consensus. The ladies at Weight Watchers adore you and tell me on a weekly basis how fabulous you are. It never gets old. You flirt with your eyes and that is going to cause me much unrest in the future. I hope I'll be able to teach you to wink someday. That will really knock 'em dead.
Every day gets better with you. That's saying a lot since there has never really been a bad
day with you. You've been a dream since day one and I love you more and more as the weeks and months go by. You are my little monkey. My peanut. My sweet potato. My Baby Gideon and I'm so glad you are in my life.
Apple picking at MacQueens Orchard.