Over the weekend we gave you your first bite of solid food: freshly steamed and pureed carrots. Carrots that your sister and I picked out from the farmer’s market. You eyed those orange babies while I peeled them. You drooled while you sat on my hip watching while I whirled them in the food processor. You smacked your lips while I spooned them into a bowl. We sat down to eat dinner, baby spoon in hand. Ready to feed you your first bite. Instead, you yanked the spoon from my fingers and jammed it in your mouth on your own.
That, my love, basically sums up your first six months of life: Independence. When I carry you in the Ergo, you squirm and contort your body so that you can face outward. You love to be outside, watching the world go by. Sitting among the other children, watching them play.
I have loved watching your personality develop over these last few months. Driven by this independent spirit, your father and I now fear for your teenage days. Most people, grandparents, aunties, friends and strangers alike, exclaim at what a happy and personable baby you are, constantly smiling, laughing and gurgling. This is all true, but darling, they are not around when your wrath is unleashed. You can scream and cry and carry on with the best of them, complete with huge dramatic sighs, shudders and crocodile-sized tears. My parents tell stories that I was the best door slammer to walk the earth. I suspect you may take over my title.
While you are only six month old, you are roughly 18 pounds, and nearly 28 inches long. Your giant baby genes astound much of the population. Most people are amazed when I claim you are a wee six months old. In fact, last week a young lady told me to “shut the front door” when I said that you were not quite six months yet. So, I did. But, these thunder thighs come in handy when you play in your jumper. You can get some solid air bouncing, belly-laughing and having so much fun. You like to listen to the music, spin the ducks, but what you really like is to jump. The higher, the faster, the better.
As your first half year of life comes to a close, I have been spending a lot of time thinking about how to tell you just how loved and adored you are. I cannot think of just the right words, though, and then last week while we laid in the grass soaking up some vitamin D, the words flew off the page of Wherever You Are by Nancy Tillman. They sum up perfectly just how I feel:
“I wanted you more than you will ever know, so I sent love to follow wherever you go. In the green of the grass. In the smell of the sea. In the clouds floating by. At the top of a tree. In the sound crickets make at the end of the day. You are loved. You are loved. You are loved. They all say.”
Little bumblebee, you are so loved, loved more than all the stars in the sky and the waters in the ocean.