Baby B

Dear Sylvie (at 7 months)

January 11, 2010 at 11:36 pm

Dearest Sylvie B.,

Happy 7 months! This has been an exciting month of firsts for you, my love. First Christmas, first real snow, first tooth (now already graduated to first teeth!), first babbling…you are becoming such a big girl and I’m finding it increasingly difficult to keep up!

For example, you may have noticed that this letter to you is nearly two weeks late – the latest so far, I believe. Part of that I blame on the busyness of the holiday season and part of it I blame on, well, you. Now, I love you to pieces so it’s only fair that I tell it to you straight: Baby, you have become one _terrible_ little sleeper. You’re like a newborn these days: crying when you’re put down, waking multiple times a night demanding to be soothed, expecting to nurse multiple times a night…yikes! And this from the 8 week-old who used to sleep 10+ hours a night without a peep?! You’re doing it backwards! We got our first taste of it on Thanksgiving, and felt terrible for getting frustrated with your constant waking when you finally threw up all of your sweet potatoes. And then you went and got awful diarrhea and a diaper rash, so I determinedly nursed and changed you every few hours around the clock to make sure you weren’t dehydrated or sore…and then the teething began…and the slippery slope of your exhausted and defeated parents bringing you into bed and, well, you get the picture. Nighttime is a big ol’ mess in the House of B. We’re not at the point of sleep-training (yet), mainly because I can’t stomach the thought of you crying endlessly in the dark with no response, but we are starting to get a little tough love on you. Once you’re down in the crib, I’m no longer picking you up if you get upset. I’ll hold your hand or rub your tummy, but you’re getting the message that it’s crib time no matter what. And I’m not bringing you into our bed before 4 a.m, even though it’s the easiest route if you wake before then. We haven’t quite decided what to do about that little acquired nightly habit. On the one hand, I don’t sleep very well with you there, and I worry about the habit we’re creating for the long term, but on the other hand, it really is lovely to snuggle all together as a family and you’re only a baby once…well, we’ll probably keep doing it for a while longer. But, remember – not before 4 a.m.! Tough mama has spoken!

The thing is, you know what you’re doing with those cries these days. When you were a newborn, every cry indicated that you had some sort of _need_ to be met, and we worked hard to figure out exactly what that was. Nowadays, though, you really don’t cry all that much, and when you do, it’s most often when there’s something that you _want._ If we take a toy away from you, you instantaneously burst into tears. If we walk away from you when you want to play, same thing. And again when we walk out of the room at bedtime. This new cry is distinct. It’s a plaintive, pleading wail and it indicates to us just how much of your own little person you’ve become (and that toddlerhood is looming ever closer!)

Your personality is really starting to shine through these days, and you are shaping up to be quite a spitfire! You’re rambunctious, giggly, destructive, industrious, curious, spastic, a bit moody…and a whole lot of fun. You love climbing up your father and me, grabbing at our faces, chewing on our chins, or swiping daddy’s glasses. You like being thrown in the air and spun around in circles. You have funny opinions about things. For example, you detest having your nose picked or wiped and you scream and you fuss, but you absolutely adore when I use the disgusting little nasal bulb syringe to suck out your snot. You actually giggle as it’s coming toward you. You have also developed a strange affinity for octopi. You have three octopus toys: “Octotunes,” “Big Purple Guy,” and the creatively-named “Bath Octopus,” and you regularly seek out all three of them. I can’t even nurse you in your room rocker during daylight anymore because you will make eye contact with Octotunes and pop off and start talking to him. You love wrestling with Big Purple Guy and you even used him as leverage the other day to stand momentarily.

You are getting close with this moving business. I have a feeling this is our last month of being able to turn our backs on you for more than a second. You have officially escaped the Kick and Play chair and daddy can no longer contain you there for his first few sips of coffee in the morning. Instead, you need to be on the floor where the action is. We set up a foam alphabet mat in the living room for you to play on (much to daddy’s chagrin) and you go to town!  When we plunk you down into the seated position, you almost immediately dive onto your belly and pivot all around, grabbing at any toys that are within your circumference. If they are just out of reach, you’ve learned to push off with your big toe to give you that extra inch or two for grabbing, and you’ll even try using another toy as a tool to drag it toward you. Tool use already!  I feel like I’m witnessing the development of early man and names of theories such as “recapitulation” and “maturationist” and others that I learned in school but am too lazy to look up swirl around in my head as I study you with fascination. My own little cavewoman evolving before my eyes.

Your language is coming along splendidly, as well. You had your first babble-fest at Grandma Linda’s house and spent several minutes perfecting your “babababas.” We’re pretty sure we’ve heard several “mamas” and “dadas,” but they weren’t definitive enough to record in the history annals just yet. You love growling and roaring like a monster, and those raspberries are filled with very complex sounds these days: something like BLTHZZ. You also enjoy screaming, especially in a a call-and-response conversation with an adult (ahem, grandma). Noisy little cavewoman.

You’re becoming more of an eater now with two square meals instead of one. In addition to rice cereal, you have now tried oatmeal, peas, apples, squash, prunes, carrots, sweet potatoes, pears, bananas, rice rusks, avocados, yogurt, and watermelon. Of these, you really like only oatmeal, watermelon, and rice rusks, and you’re beginning to tolerate prunes, carrots, yogurt, and squash. The disgusted faces you make when we introduce something new are priceless, and it generally takes at least 4 tries for you to even allow something into your mouth. I hope this doesn’t mean that you’re going to be a picky eater. My mom said when I was a baby she literally “couldn’t shovel it in fast enough,” but Jon was apparently one of those “spaghetti and butter” kinds of kids. When I was pregnant with you, I was quite the adventurous eater (in addition to having a killer sweet tooth), so I was hoping that I piqued your curiosity with that flavorful amniotic fluid. Time will tell, I guess. I am noticing that you’re much more interested in solids than in purees. You think it is just awesome to be able to “chew” on a piece of watermelon or to be able to hold and munch your very own rice rusk, so we’ll probably start you on finger foods sooner rather than later.

Oh, my big girl. I know you’re probably tired of reading “it’s hard to believe,” but it really is hard to believe that you’ve already had your first Christmas. This year it was incredibly special. For the first time in our lives together, your daddy and I stayed home instead of traveling, so that we could have our very own celebration as a family. It’s the start of a new annual tradition, and we couldn’t be more excited to share it with you. This year, the three of us decorated our tree, hung stockings, baked cookies, and visited friends together. Even though you had no idea what was going on, it was wonderful to watch you open your gifts on Christmas morning and revel in our special day together as a family. I’m looking so forward to the years to come. Happy New Year, sweetheart.

Nuzzle-nuzzle, nosey-nosey,

Mama

By phillygil | Posted in Dear Sylvie