Seven Month Update

Dear Samantha,

You turned seven months old today. Okay, I lied. You actually turned seven months over a month ago, but I am post-dating my blogs to mask the fact that I am perpetually a month behind on your updates. Life is so incredibly busy right now that I want to spend any spare moments I can find soaking up your wonderful baby smell, your wide, gummy smile, and gobbling up your sweet little cheeks. You are growing up so, so fast, my baby girl. I want to soak up every moment with you, not spend my free time pecking away on a keyboard.

But here I am, pecking away on the keyboard while you and your sister sleep because I know this time will pass quickly and by writing these posts I will always have reminders of you as my sweet, chubby-legged little baby. And when I look back on your seventh month of life I want to remember how you nestled into my neck when I held you, how you began chanting “Ma, ma, ma” when you saw me, and most of all how you wanted me, your Mama, more than anyone else. You began playing a game this month with your father and your grandparents where you would hold out your arms to be held by one and then just as quickly turn around to hold out your arms and return to the other. I think you enjoyed being able to control the game as well as your movements in this way. But you wouldn’t play the game with Mama because, for this month at least, there was no place you’d rather be than in my arms. Thank you for that, sweetie. I now officially forgive you for all those ninja womb kicks and the raging pregnancy indigestion.

Speaking of movement, you made great strides in that arena this month. You learned how to maintain a sitting position for extended periods of time and very nearly mastered the elusive art of reaching a sitting position by yourself. You made a few attempts to crawl but soon decided it was much easier and more efficient to just roll wherever you wanted to go. You rolled from one end of this house to another and formally kicked off what I’m sure will be an ongoing battle with your sister over disturbing her stuff. She talked a big game for the first six months of your life about how, when you got bigger, she would share this and that with you. She was not, however, prepared for you to get bigger so soon. And that makes two of us.

Lana also spent the last six months explaining to us that she can’t share food with you because you don’t have teeth. She won’t be able to use that excuse much longer, though, since you went ahead and sprouted two of them this month. They showed up one morning, practically out of the blue. Your Omo had just finished feeding you lunch and turned to me to ask, “Did you know she has two teeth coming through?” Sure enough, there they were. Two adorable bottom teeth like a baby in a magazine. Looking back, I should not have been surprised by the lack of fanfare around the emergence of those first teeth. It is so in keeping with your extremely laid back personality, your lack of DRAMA. That’s something I’m still getting used to, you know. I don’t want to label your sister a Drama Queen, but she did storm off to her room no less than three times today because the lunch options and/or selection of pre-recorded television shows did not please her.

Finally, I cannot complete a summary of this month without mentioning that we at last got you sleeping (mostly) through the night without the help of a Miracle Blanket. This is one thing you and your sister definitely have in common -- you both slept incredibly well swaddled tightly in the Miracle Blanket and gave us hell at night when we tried to take you out of it. We finally bit the bullet and put you down one evening without wrapping you up. To my dismay, you immediately flipped onto your stomach. Even though you looked extremely comfortable, I was sure you would suffocate. So I tried to ever so carefully roll you onto your back. You just jammed your thumb in your mouth and rolled right back onto your tummy. After a couple more attempts, I finally gave up and spent a restless night worrying about whether or not you’d be breathing in the morning. You were kind enough to wake me up at 4:30 am shrieking to let me know you still had plenty of air in your lungs. Unfortunately, you continued waking up early like that for the rest of the month, long after I’d come to terms with your tummy sleeping preference. Granted, you almost always drank a bottle and then went right back to sleep, but waking up at 4:30 am is not okay under any circumstances.

It was another amazing month, my sweet baby girl. Every second I spend with you is special, even when it is before five in the morning.

Love,
Mama