month six

Dear Brooklynn, This month, you turned six months old.  Now, maybe by the time you read this, that will seem like a trivial length of time, seeing as how it is only half of a year, or 1/42nd of the time until you can legally order a drink in a bar. When I consider that I personally am almost 56 times older than you… well, it doesn’t make me feel any younger.

Going Home

You started this month being sick and ended the month even sicker. We have just recently descended into our first official ear infection and your mother and I really hope that you are not prone to them in the same way I was. To celebrate your first infection and provide some moral support, I went ahead and got the same infection right along with you. Because I’m a caring dad like that. If it makes you feel any better, your Aunt Sarah thinks you make a very cute sick baby.

You have officially passed 19 pounds and are fast approaching 28 inches in length, and our arms, backs, and legs know it. When I stop to consider the fact that you aren’t even walking around and demanding to be picked up, I think that I really need to start looking into lifting weights before you cause irreparable damage.

Good Hair Day

Just a week ago, you experienced the excitement of Christmas for the first time. Actually, I don’t know that excitement is really the right word, since you didn’t really have much anticipation built up. The real excitement came when you discovered that there was wrapping paper and bows and more paper. As long as we didn’t take the paper away, life was good.

The Best Part of Presents

There are starting to be signs that you might eventually move around under your own power. You are much more willing to lay on your stomach and reach in front of you for toys, so perhaps some day you might crawl. If placed in a sitting position, you also can maintain your balance for several minutes or as long as a toy doesn’t roll too far to the side of you. When this occurs, a faceplant is usually close behind.

Remember when I said how caring I am? That’s right – sometimes I let you fall. I call that a learning opportunity and a life experience. Caring. Definition of.

But don’t worry, someone is always around to pick up back up again. Because we really do care.

I would like your candy

We care enough that during Project: Tough Love, when we let you cry for an hour to break the habit of midnight feeding, I think it was harder on both of us than it was for you. We care enough that your mom spent 10 hours in the back seat of a car with you just to keep you entertained and it wasn’t until she got out and started walking around for a while she realized just how cramped that can be.

In a minute, I will spit up on you

You’ve seen blazing hot days and snow bad enough to close a couple of states worth of roads. You’ve been to pools, in a hotel, and taken a couple trips into the mountains above 10,000 ft in elevation. We left you at home with your grandparents when you were five days old, and we left you with your other grandparents in their home to go see a movie on about 15 minutes notice. (See, there’s that caring again…) You’ve been on 6 planes, driven over 2000 miles in the span of about a week, and met a lot of people, including Santa Claus.  Maybe next year, he can even bring you a present, but only if you’re good.

I have feet

Let me tell you, that’s a full six months, and you can’t even talk about it yet.  Ask me again in another six months and we’ll see how we’re doing then.  At the rate I feel like I’m aging, I’m just hoping to make it that long.

Love, Dad