licking daddy’s apple
Nine months old.
I’m typing that quickly and moving right along, because dwelling on that fact will reduce me to tears.
Last week she figured out how to do an army crawl of sorts. Up until then, she’d been rolling over, over, over until she reached her destination. Suddenly, that phase is over. I was sad to see it go. It was just so cute. So now she’s all over the place, faster and faster.
And suddenly she cries — huge tears — when I lay her down to change her. Mobility has, for whatever reason, inspired a sudden willfulness that, until now, seemed nonexistent. It’s pretty funny how quickly she can cue the tears — and how suddenly they stop when I get her attention and firmly say, no.
She still is the easiest, easiest baby I’ve had. She still naps for hours (Jameson would give me 20 minutes, tops, until he was 18 months old!) and lays down eagerly when she’s tired. At night she sleeps with me, since that’s the most restful way for me to accommodate her when she wakes to nurse.
Her eyes are big and beautiful, and are more and more aware of what’s going on around her. Watching a baby grow, seeing their person develop, is just an amazing thing.
I just wish it happened a little bit more slowly.