Lucy: Month Seven (For Real)

Dear Goose-A-Loose,

Baby girl you are seven months old now. I have always felt that six to eight months is the prime baby age, and you do not disappoint. Playful, sweet and loving, you begin each day with a laugh and end it with a contented sigh.

In between you are nothing but smiles. And drool, but that's to be expected. If you don't get a tooth soon I'll eat my hat. We're on a constant rotation of teething toys, fingers and whatever else you can get in your maw. Sam's favorite game is to bring you every toy he can carry and then pick them up when you invariably drop them. So cute!

Hugs and wet kisses are on the menu these days. Whenever someone picks you up, you wrap your arms around their necks and grab onto the hair when available. You love to cuddle. It's so wonderful to feel your baby head nuzzled into my neck. Every time you do this I try and stop for a moment so I can remember these days. I have first-hand knowledge that they don't last forever.

Baby food of all variety entices you now. You had your first puff this month, too. It was so funny to watch as you tried (in vain) to eat the small star encased firmly in your fist. I'm a kind mommy, though, so I put one in your mouth for you. The look on your face was pure delight!

The purpose of cups isn't quite clear to you yet, but you love to chew on them! And as you can see in the photo, sitting up is a skill you have recently mastered, as well as rolling over. It's like your whole world has opened up. Now if you want a toy just out of reach, you can roll to it. Sitting is one of your favorite positions, though. If we try and lay you down on the floor you make your displeasure loudly known, and then we prop you up on your ample bottom.


Oh and you've found your tongue. And toes. The toes drive you nuts, though, because you are too chubby to get them into your mouth! I want to bottle up your fat little legs so I can save some for later when you thin out.

This past month, even though you don't realize it, you were your mother's biggest salvation. We've had some difficult times with your brother. It's nothing remarkable, just the 'terrible twos.' But when I was at the end of my rope, I would scoop you up and we'd go play in your room all by ourselves. I found myself singing you a song that, while isn't appropriate in its entirety, sums up how I was feeling pretty well:

Take It easy, take it easy
Don't let the sound of your own wheels
drive you crazy
Come on, baby, don't say maybe
I gotta know if your sweet love is
gonna save me

I think it will.

Love, Mama