Last night, my plan was to let you re-learn to sleep in your crib after your 3-week cold that had you sleeping in my bed again. You woke up about an hour after I put you down, and started to cry. I went upstairs and talked to you and sang to you and rubbed your back, and you just screamed louder, because what you wanted was to be picked up.
And you know what?
I picked you up.
Not right away. I tried to let you cry so you would learn that you need to sleep, in your crib, without nursing ALL NIGHT LONG. But I just couldn’t do it.
Because you wanted to be held. And I was right there. To hold you.
You are six months old now. You are such a big girl. When I cradle you to nurse, there is so much of you, such a substantial weight on my lap. So different than the six-pound baby I first knew.
Now, when I nurse you, you look up at me and touch my face. Well, really, you kind of maul my face, picking my nose and stabbing my eye and exploring my mouth with your curious little fingers. But at night, when you are sleep-nursing, you just gently reach up and make sure I am there.
You are so interested in the world these days. I wonder, all day long, what you are thinking now that you are aware of everything around you. As I carry you upstairs for a diaper change, something will catch your eye as you are borne past it, and I know that it is just a short time until you find a way to reach all the little objects that now you only wave your hands at in hopes of being able to grab them.
You have developed a knack for attention-getting. As your dad and I stood in the pet store debating what brand of cat food to get, you smiled and cooed at nearby customers until – they just couldn’t help it – they began to smile and coo back at you.
You enjoy squeezing handfuls of the cat’s fur and trying to get some of it into your mouth.
When you first wake up, you TALK and TALK and TALK.
Today, at a play date, I was adding some grapes to the plate of crackers on my lap, and in a nanosecond, you had two fistfuls of crackers in your hands and were trying to get them all in your mouth at once. If you had tried just one, you would have been successful; your mouth just wasn’t big enough for two hands and three crackers, so you missed your chance. And that is how you attack everything in life these days: you want it all, and you want all RIGHT NOW.
You took your first fishing trip with your dad. I’m sure you had fun, but NOTHING compared to how much fun your dad had. He can’t wait to share all his hobbies with you.
I’m so excited about the person you have become that I hardly have time to miss that little baby you were just a short time ago.
Six months ago, I was just meeting you. It seems like YESTERDAY. And it will seem like no time at all has gone by when suddenly you will have problems too complex to be solved with milk and a warm lap.
And so, right now, when you cry because you want to be held?
I will hold you.