Impossibly, our newborn is six months old. The little urchin who snorted like a hedgehog through her first day, who fit on my forearm, who slept in a little basket, who crossed her eyes and spread her arms when I carried her downstairs… She’s really, really a person now. She crawls onto the hardwood, laughs when we do (a sniffle-snort with her nose scrunched up, but it’s definitely a Jewish laugh), stands and even walks with a little help, and beams like a satchel-mouthed searchlight as a reward for walking into her room and peeking into her crib. She’s shown me a person inside me I didn’t know was there, and a lot of delicious hints of the person she’s becoming.
Here’s a quick walk down memory lane.
One month old
I feel sad for people born before hoods with ears.
At Grandma and Grandpa’s in Sacramento for Thanksgiving!
Just a little tune I’ve been working on. I’ll play it standing up.