Baby B

Dear Sylvie (at 6 months)

December 3, 2009 at 1:06 am

Dear Sylvie Bilversen,

Well, look at you! You’re sitting up! Isn’t that impressive? You have officially entered big girl territory! My word…six months old. I can’t even pretend that you’re still in the “newborn” category anymore, now that you’ve clocked half a year. Happy half-birthday, baby girl!

You had your pediatrician check-up on Monday, and you maintained your peanut-head string-bean proportions: 75th for length, 32nd for weight, 37th for head circumference. I was actually surprised, because I think you’re looking quite chubby these days, but I guess it’s all relative and most 6-month-olds are bigger chunkamunks than you. At least you actually made it onto the “weight-for-length” chart this time around. I know they say that those things aren’t predictive at this age (and it’s a good thing, or I would have been an *enormous* adult), but you really are maintaining a pretty consistent pattern there. During your visit, you impressed your pediatrician with your sitting abilities, and you unleashed your hellion wail on the nurse who administered your vaccinations. I don’t blame you at all, though. That was a whole lot of needles. I’m sorry for all that, by the way. If it’s any consolation, I really think the horror of it stays with me longer than it does you.

We have had an absolutely lovely November together. As you can see from a previous post, we joined a Kindermusik class, which, frankly, is a rip-off, but I  couldn’t deny you it after we did a trial class and you giggled and shrieked your whole way through it. Your first class was a bit of a rocky start (you nursed and fussed through about $20 of the $23 class), but you have made up for it since then. You are hilarious in action, little girl – I just wish you had less expensive taste! You had many first experiences this month, and we are loving watching you further develop into your own little person. Let me share with you some of the highlights from the month:

Socially, you have become aware of (and interested in) other babies. We recently had brunch at Annika’s and you and Julia (8 months) sat wobbling and smiling and staring at each other like two little barflies at closing time. You enjoy spending time with your buddy Noah, and you two even “shared” a toy recently (slobber and all) as you sat squished together in your car seats on our way to Isis. At our natural childbirth reunion, you allowed the other babies to touch you and play with you, but you drew the line on having your feet fondled and kicked poor Luke in the face! I felt bad for the little guy, but I guess a small part of me is proud of the way you’re already handling yourself with the boys.

With adults, you are now intermittently waving hello and goodbye. At first I thought it was a fluke, but you consistently open and close your fist at Grandma when we Skype, and you waved at our friend John when he stopped by to meet you the other day. I’m not even sure how you learned that, as I’m definitely not one of those “Wave bye-bye!” types of moms. You are just soaking it all up through osmosis, I guess. You are definitely starting to understand certain recurring language, themes, and games. For example, when I said, “Hammer Legs” to you the other day while you were on the changing table, you immediately smiled and started slamming them down. Repeated 5 times, you did the same thing every time. Hilarious.

You have begun to develop stranger anxiety, especially, for some reason, with Andrew. The last couple of times you saw him, you just wailed your heart out. Maybe you and the cat have been having one too many powwows. Given enough space and time the last time, though, you came around. But who knows what your reaction to him will look like next time. Stranger anxiety is funny. One minute, you’re chatting and cooing and smiling with everyone in the waiting room, and the next you’re screaming and hiding your face when the physical therapist so much as looks at you. I hope this is one of the shorter phases.

Once again, I jinxed myself with last month’s rave about your sleep. Why won’t I learn? This past week has been a bedtime disaster. You screamed for hours the past few nights, and we’ve had to hold and rock you until you are fast asleep and then ever-so-gingerly put you down. However, tonight was significantly better and I’m trying not to get too worried about it. You do have the tail-end of a cold after all. Who wouldn’t want to be rocked to sleep when they’re sick? But I must say that you may have finally lost your reigning title as Sleeping Beauty. You are still a good sleeper in the grand scheme of things, but you’ve added some new surprising and erratic wake-up times (including last night’s midnight feeding and weird 4 am finger-in-your-throat-gagging-yourself-for-fun drama) that I think may just disqualify you from the world championship.

Naps are also up and down, although you do continue to have one good one and several shorter ones on most days. Unfortunately, I have clearly turned you into a swaddle addict at naps, judging by how badly you nap without it. What kind of mom *introduces* the swaddle at 4 months old?! Now we’ve had to go out and buy something called a Woombie (it makes you look like a giant worm) in a size described as “Mega Baby.” No idea what we’re going to do when you outgrow that!

Sylvie language has officially taken off and M is back as the official sound of the month. Your favorite sounds include “mmmm,” “ooooom,” and “ummm.” B has also joined the mix, in such various incarnations as “ba” and “Mm-bah.” “L” has also made a reappearance in the forms of “oool,” and even “oooolm” and “blll.” You’ve also rediscovered the art of the raspberry. Last night, daddy asked you what you thought of him having to work late, and, without even a second’s delay, you replied with a big “Thhhhbbbbbttt!” Atta girl!

Physically, you are now so strong and controlled. The biggest milestone, of course, is that you’re now sitting up. It’s pretty amazing to see your little torso upright un-propped, your chubby arms reaching out and adeptly picking up and manipulating toys. But I still need to stay close, as evidenced by your big faceplant on the kitchen floor today. I have a feeling we’re in a for a few bumps and bruises next month. Good thing you’re pretty easygoing about all of it. You’re also now using a Johnny-jump-up and, boy, do you ever LOVE it. You in that thing has got to be one of the cutest things ever. Now that you’ve learned how to jump, it’s a new favorite activity on our laps, too. I’ll have to get Phoebe and Julia to teach you the “Bouncy Ladies” song.

Digestively (OK, totally not a word, but you get what I’m saying), the big news is that you’ve started solids. You were incredibly gung-ho about your rice cereal the first day, but your enthusiasm has since waned. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you threw up your entire Thanksgiving meal at midnight. Maybe that turned you off just a bit. Whatever it is, you’re now screwing up your face and pursing your lips and generally just seem disenchanted with this whole “food” business. I’m continuing to try, since you apparently need iron now, but I don’t want to force too much too soon. So far, in addition to rice cereal, you’ve tried sweet potatoes (disastrous), prunes (meh), and bananas (you were disgusted by their very existence). On the other end, you’re still not much of a pooper these days. I’ve actually started a “poop chart,” which is a tad embarrassing and I’m sure is being overly anxious about the whole thing, but I just want to make weeks aren’t going by or something.  I sometimes forget just how long it’s been. I think your digestive system is just still adjusting to the shock of all of this food novelty. Although I get a little worried, you’re gaining weight just fine, and in reality I’m mostly just enjoying the lack of clothing changes and carseat blowouts. You also don’t really need to be burped anymore, although you sometimes still unexpectedly let out a big belch when we squeeze you, which is hilarious.

In some ways you have been keeping me a lot more on my toes with all of this mobility and awareness and eating and such. But, truth be told, I am loving it. I sometimes achingly miss how adorably helpless and teeny you were as a newborn, but mostly I am just glad that you are becoming increasingly independent and capable. I can’t wait to see you make your first move across the floor all on your own. It may very well be walking, rather than crawling if you’re anything like I was as a baby. Apparently, I ranked up there with the world’s worst crawlers, dragging one leg behind me and looking like a wounded dog. You don’t seem particularly aware of the fact that you can bend your knees and thus use your legs for anything beyond standing, so there’s a good chance you may be following in my footsteps, so to speak.

Oh, my baby girl, you’re getting so big and wonderful and it’s all just amazing. I am honored to get to witness your continued development and I delight in every new achievement and discovery, no matter how small. As a teacher, I have gotten to witness many children grow and change and it was always amazing, but never did I get to see every new advancement since birth and never was it as special as it is with my own sweet baby. I am so grateful that I get this opportunity to stay home with you and be a part of it all. I cherish every day that we’re together.

All my love,

Mama

By phillygil | Posted in Dear Sylvie