dear peanut {six months}
happy six months, my sweet little peanut!
a very merry half birthday to you.
{did i just type half birthday? as in, half way to one year old? good gracious.}
how happy and effervescent are you? big eyes. expressive brows. wispy, warm blonde hair. button nose. wide, gummy grin that extends all the way to your long, curled toes. your strong and chub-a-licious legs.
and those bright pantaloons. dressing you is getting better and better. although, i have imposed a bit of a fancywear embargo for our everyday apparel since you are such a droolypuss. and talk about much ado about nothing! not a tooth to be found. any day now, i expect one of those pearly whites to just pop through, officially signaling your passage from infanthood into toddlerness. but, in spite of the salivafest, nothing dental to report. {hold off, little tooth. stay safely nestled in those precious pink gums. let my baby girl be a baby for just a smidge longer. pretty please.}
by the way, you are in the 2nd percentile for height and weight. tinier than 98% of the baby population. the doctor just giggles as she reads it. she thinks you are the cutest, petite little bundle. and she is sufficiently impressed by your half-year-mark abilities. you are small. but FIERCE. determined and strong. frankly, your papa and i are already shuddering at your will. ever since you learned that rolling is a handy way to get around, you are all over the place. and fast too. as soon as i plop you down, you are on the move. rolling and shifting and grunting and flapping your arms wildly, beating on your belly little a little drum. you pull at the blanket and shimmy until everything is just so...and then, you are off again. rolling, rolling, rolling.
it is amazing to watch as your brain processes the world around you. making connections. perceiving space. comprehending relationships. now, when you see a toy {or anything that tickles your fancy, for that matter. fabric, earrings, ponytails, dog ears, etc.} that is outside of your reach, the wheels begin turning as you concoct a plan for how to get your little fingers on it. it usually involves some grunts of frustration, a few furrowed brow glances at papa, followed by strategic rolls and flops and toe curls and pulls...and then, voila! your little fingers arrive at your desired location. you grasp for your toy, pull it toward yourself, clutch it lovingly, and flop over onto your back in sheer victory and delight. and while it isn't pleasant to hear your sounds of annoyance and see you strain, it is pure magic to see your face in that moment. that moment when you realize what you have overcome and accomplished. and then, your parents realize how much you have grown. how big you are. you are doing so much. you have such an independent streak. we can already tell that you are going to keep us on our toes. that you will challenge us. that you have soooo much more that you are eager to learn and do. that you have a big and bold personality locked and loaded in that tiny frame. "and though she be but little, she is fierce." that you will be complex and contemplative and analytical. you will surprise us and enchant us. bright, bright, bright.
we can't wait to watch as your personality continues to develop. we can't wait to see what God has in store for you. and we pray that God equips us to parent you with grace and strength. may we point you to Him. may you love Him deeply and follow after Him passionately. may your childlike wonder continue as you explore His world and His words. may you hold His promises to your chest and treasure them in your heart. may you savor His presence. may you experience and rely on His tender kindness and mercies. we look forward to watching you as you grasp for and cling to His Word with tenacity and untamed love. we pray that you will comprehend His precepts, revel in the joy and freedom that He provides, and walk boldly and victoriously. "let her sleep, for when she wakes she will move mountains." through the power of Christ's redeeming love - in Christ alone, soli Deo gloria - may you move mountains little girl.
love, love, love,
your mama + your papa