Tonight at about 11pm, Maggie will be six months old. She’s been practicing some good tactics of always being a changing target. Any time I think I have this baby understood there’s a new improvisational infant waiting to spring something new on me.
We had five months of demon baby at 7pm, that changed this month and now we have randomly psychotic infant every two or three days usually in the daytime. We have a baby whose tastes seem to change hour by hour now and knows exactly how to mess up an outfit.
We still don’t have a baby that rolls over, although we do know that she’s capable of it. There are real smiles, she has favorite songs, loves muppets and puppets, can handle five or so hours worth of doing something as long as she’s had her sleep.
She likes eating mush, can chug a bottle, and likes grabbing things.
Today was not one of her more normal days, she was with me at work and the fussiness started, along with massive drooling along with inconsolable sadness. A couple of teething tablets seem to have knocked her out for the past couple of hours and at least temporarily remedied the sadness. That or it’s completely random, will know in a couple of days.
It’s been an interesting six months. Loving this little ploppy baby, being a slave to high volume screaming, and attempting to solve the mystery of what the little crib midget wants.
While I’ve loved most of the time I’ve had with her, I’m actively looking forward to the coming few months… maybe that’s selfish, but I’m looking forward to dragging her out for Halloween, dressing her up as a turkey, and perhaps dressing her a tiny Santa… hrmm, most of my anticipation seems to be focused on costumes…
I’m also looking forward to her learning either some of the sign language I’ve been using, sleeping through the night, and learning to tell me what she actually is pissed off about. This guessing game for the past six months is becoming tiring.
Love you Maggie!