11 Weeks: which was about 767 weeks ago. She turned six months old last week. I can hardly believe it. I knew it would come along eventually. I knew during those first few weeks/months of no sleep and crying (was that her or me?) and shell shock that she would eventually turn "older," and everything would seem easier. I don't know that anything is actually easier, but we humans do adapt, don't we? It suddenly seems normal to get up early every morning, to narrate every step we take, to change diapers as only a licensed quick-change artist can do, and to dance a little jig or make fishy faces.
The fishy faces are for Brady, not the baby.
She has so many new tricks up her sleeve these days. When she's in her swing, she's taken to propping her foot up on the brace, to stop the swinging. I don't know if it's more because she's getting seasick or because she can. When she sits on the bathroom counter in her Bumbo (with me in front of her, playing goalie), she likes to grab everything within her reach - which includes leaning - and drop it in the sink. Clunk. There goes the soap dispenser. Clunk. There goes the monitor. Clunk. There goes Brady's razor. And then she grins, as if to say: "What else you got?"
The blanket in the picture is one her auntie Heather made from scratch, and the daisy is from her baptism bouquet.
May she always have one tucked behind her ear.