6 months

There are mysterious noises coming from the basement play room.  Mysterious noises, raucous laughter, more mysterious noises.  But, nobody's crying.  And there are no Sharpies (or sharp objects) in the basement.  And Mabel's peacefully resting in my lap and I just think I'm willing to deal with whatever it is they're destroying down there if it means I get a few more minutes to sit here wasting time on the internet and holding my snuggly half-year old.  HALF YEAR OLD, YALL.  I'm ignoring the mysterious noises and staying put, right here, with my baby.  Because, I know, the second half of her year is going to whip by as fast as the first half of her year did and before we know it, she'll be one.  And not a baby who lies on her tummy on the living room rug, raking up plastic blocks and bringing them to her mouth and screeching and rolling around to grab at the one that fell just out of her reach, before yawning and fussing and "mamamama"ing and falling to sleep in my lap when I scoop her up for a snuggle.

Mabel, you're six months old today.  The past month, my girl, has been a mess.  You got the flu, which caused an ear infection, which cleared long enough for you to suffer through your first two teeth pushing through your tender gums, only to return in the other ear just after that.  Then, just in the past few days, you picked up the cold your brother dragged home from preschool, so you've been snotty and coughing and just not as happy a girl as you'd usually be.  We've been to the pediatrician four times and urgent care and the emergency room in the last 30 days.  And we have not slept, Mabel, we just have not.  After a quite promising start as a solid sleeper, and spoiling your mama and daddy with all-night slumber for months and months ..... you've slept like a newborn this past month.  Every hour, every other hour if we're really lucky.  Until, and I hate to breathe a word of this and jinx us .... last night.  When you slept just like you used to.  Hours and hours and glorious hours until I woke up and momentarily panicked "OMG KIDNAPPERS OMG IS SHE BREATHING?!?!?"  But maybe it's a calmer time coming in.  Your two new teeth are in place, your ears are clear per yesterday's six month well child check up, and your snotty faucet of a nose is drying up.  So maybe, the worst is behind us.  Maybe we won't have to Ferber you, maybe you'll just pick up where we left off before the illnesses?  I can hope for this, sweet girl, I sure can.  Because to hear you cry is to break my heart.  Like, burn down a Target and forbid my morning coffee and hide all my crafting supplies kind of heartbreak.  Maybe worse, even.

Not to make you sound like a terror, MG.  You are most certainly nothing of the sort.  You're a bright eyed, giggling, smiley faced, go with the flow baby sister.  Go with the flow as babies with two big siblings must be, no?  We can't sit at home smiling at one another all day, because your brother needs to go to preschool and your sister needs to go to dance and your mama needs to hit up the coffee shop drive thru in order to function well enough to get us all safely to the other end of the day.  So you take your morning nap snuggling your seahorse in the car seat, you wait patiently for me to feed the others and clean up the kitchen and make it upstairs to put you down for your afternoon nap.  You splash in the tub with the other two because there's just no time to blow up the special ducky sitting-up baby tub and bathe you alone.  You absolutely light up when your daddy comes home at night.  No doubt about it, you're your daddy's girl.  But you're an equal opportunity lover.  Parents, siblings, grandparents, aunties, uncles, friends, wet-nosed pets, needle wielding nurses, strangers in line at the post office ..... you love 'em all, Mabes.

Happy half-year, Mabel Gray.  Here's hoping for a happier seventh month and also, maybe for time to slow down just a wee bit?  I'm not ready for the crawling, the pulling up, the finding your feet and running off with the others and taking the last of my motherhood babying babies along with you when you do.