There is an unnamed stage of babyhood where the child turns a corner, grows up and becomes a playful, engaged human being.
(Well, actually, there probably is a name for this stage but I know that I don’t know it.)
Anyhow, Millie is there.
Perhaps and probably a wee bit behind “the schedule,” but she is there.
It has only been in the last week or so that she has begun fully sitting on her own, reaching and playing with toys, grabbing Mommy’s and Lola’s head hair and Daddy’s facial hair (Ray, yesterday: “Please let go, Millie. Sweetie, please let go. Ouch. You’re hurting Daddy. Please let go, no, don’t smile at me. Just let go. Please, Millie, let go.”).
She is obsessed with catching the cat’s tail.
She is rolling from front to back to front to back, spanning carpets and finding her toys. She walks in her walker and bounces in her bouncy thingy-majiggy. She enjoys tummy time, pushing up on her arms so strong. She even tries to get her butt up in the air, but hasn’t gotten that far yet, so she looks a bit like a seal.
She eats foods like bananas and Trix. Or, well, she might not eat them, but she puts them in her mouth, lets them roll around a bit and then spits them out again, only to pick them back up and put them back into her mouth.
She sleeps through the night. Every night.
She doesn’t have any teeth but there is one on the bottom that has been oh-so-close for what seems like four months now. It was super sharp last week. This week, though, I think it receded. (Do teeth even do that?)
There is something about Amelia that I just can’t express very well; she is just content. She sits back and watches the world go by in pure amazement, pure wonder. It’s not just that she is happy all of the time, but she is just truly loving life. She adores people. She kicks and grins when people make eye contact, she reaches for hugs when Lola walks by. She has her last evening bottle and sometimes forgets to actually swallow because she’s smiling at you instead (so we no longer make eye contact during that feeding, which sounds mean, but otherwise, she just doesn’t sleep). She wakes at 7 a.m. and sings or plays quietly until 7:30 a.m., when she might let out a small yelp or cough a couple of times to let you know she’s ready for you.
She is an angel.
But she’s growing up. And I’m reminded of this daily.
Like when I went shopping for her Easter dress and couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t find one in her size – I was looking in the newborn/baby section, which only carries sizes to nine months. I need 12 months.
Or when I wanted to find her a new toy and had to leave the baby section and enter the actual toy department, where Fisher Price toys line shelves opposite Disney princesses and Tinkerbells.
She’s growing up.
And I’m excited to see what kind of person she will be, with her stick-straight brown hair and her almost-green blue eyes.
But I’m not in any hurry.
- Bethany :)