Dear Natalie: Week 46

Dear Natalie,

Thanks goodness; my happy girl is back! Here are some things you’re up to this week now that you’re feeling better:

  • Standing. Unassisted. Just for a few seconds at a time, although today you held it for probably 10-15 seconds, so I know that it’s just onward and upwards from here. You’re bridging the gap frequently between the couch and the ottoman, so it’s only a matter of time before you take your first steps by yourself.
  • Being a baby woodchipper. Seriously. The volume of food you’re packing away these days is truly astonishing. I love it.
  • Side-eyeing grass, and nature in general. If there was any question about you being my child, this seals the deal. Sitting on the lawn? PASS. You do it, but it takes you several long minutes to warm up to it. Putting you down on a blanket on the lawn works just as well as baby jail, because although you cruise the perimeter and try to eat those little whirly seed-pod things, you don’t leave the blanket. Eww, nature.
  • Working on setting a world record for fastest baby crawling speed. Oh my word, child. You are everywhere and into everything, all at once. You’ve figured out that you can improve your efficiency by “surfing” on things: a box lid, one of your books, pretty much anything that’s more-or-less flat. You plant both your hands on it and then just use your mighty legs to power you across the floor.
  • Sleeping through the night but waking up sooooooo early. Five a.m. is just too early. I’m coming to terms with the fact that me waking you up at 8 a.m. is a thing of the distant past, but 5 a.m? I just…can’t even. We’re working on shifting everything in your schedule just a bit later in the hopes that you’ll sleep until 6 a.m. Maybe even 6:30, if I’m being especially greedy. I’m willing to sacrifice a bit of my evening time if it means you’ll sleep a tad later. But…best laid plans, and all that jazz. We’ll see how it goes.
  • Not being shy to express your disappointment. About anything. Mad about being in baby jail? EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Mom’s not fast enough refilling your plate with peas? EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Irritated that your diaper is wet, and then equally irritated when I change it? EEEEEEEEEEE. This new habit is…less than delightful.

Fortunately for you I’m your mom and I’m contractually obligated to love you even in your less delightful moments. And fortunately for me, you spend far more time laughing and giggling than you do shrieking at me.

I’ll take it.

Love always,


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