Well, hello there.
I think it's safe to say that I took a much-needed break from this here blog. I guess that I will go ahead and update with her 7 month post. I will try to come back later and write her 8 month post, and then MAYBE (just maybe) I will come back and write about something other than poop, first words, and drool. I know, get excited, people!
So... here are the pictures I took of her at about 7 months (no, I couldn't pick just one. Sorry) and the monthly letter:
Holy cow. You're seven months old. I know I say this all the time, but it really is crazy how time flies. Each day I look at you and I see that you're not my tiny little newborn anymore - you're getting so big. So big, in fact, that you said your first word! You'd said "dada" multiple times before, but never really made it obvious whether or not you knew what it meant. This time was different, though. You were crying because I'd changed your diaper and you wanted nothing to do with me. I picked you up to try and comfort you, but then Daddy walked into the room. You turned toward him, sort of reached for him, and, whimpering, said, "Da-da!" It seriously melted my heart. After that, we knew that you'd figured out who Daddy was. It's your only word, but it melts our hearts every single time you say it.
You've still got only two teeth, thank goodness! I say thank goodness for a few reasons: 1. You're kind of grumpy when your teeth decide to pop through. I'm not a fan. 2. You've decided that you like biting me. OUCH. 3. Have I mentioned how grumpy you get when you're busy getting teeth?
I lost count of how many diapers you've used. I know, I know. Terrible mom alert right here! I bet you're happy, though, because this just means that info won't be shared with your first boyfriend. Anyway. You're still in size 2 diapers and 6 month clothing. Carter's is still the brand of choice. I think you're about 27&3/4 inches long, but I have no idea how much you weigh. You're probably somewhere around 14 lbs and a few oz. So... long and skinny.
You love bath time.
When we put you in your high chair, you bring your legs up, prop them on your tray, and lean back with your mouth open like you're waiting for us to feed you grapes or something. I'll have to get a picture of that one.
Screaming is your favorite.
You love the baby in the mirror.
You've learned the art of crocodile tears and the fake temper tantrum.
Basically, we love you.