We Call Her "The Bug"
Tell me this. How does anyone raise children without crying the whole darn way through it? All of a sudden my sleepy five pound new born is a wide-eyed, sitting, rolling, drooling, laughing baby. She smiles and coos and sticks out her tongue and laughs when you say boo. I want to cry when I think of how fast she has grown, how I turned my back for a second and she changed completely on me. Am I going to turn my back again and have her moving out of the house?
This week marks half a year since we have had June in our lives. Of all the decisions I've ever made in my life, this girl is the best one. She is the easiest, sweetest, most chill person to ever walk into my world. Except she's not walking yet. But you know. I don't know how we got such an awesome baby. I've got enough energy to run a small power plant, and I'm married to Greg who stresses so much about going to sleep that he can't sleep. And yet, together we made the most calm baby. I am pretty sure that God has got some kind of criminal waiting in heaven for my second baby, but right now I am going to enjoy the heck out of my little June Bug.
Here's some of the little things about June at six months that I never want to forget:
June's still being a total diva when it comes to formula, rice cereal, or any kind of food that has not come straight from her mother's bosom. I comfort myself by telling myself that a person can't breast feed forever. Right? RIGHT? Because if so, oh, please help me.
June has started sticking her tongue out for everything. She just kind of hangs around with her tongue hanging out. Her and Maverick have a lot in common that way.
June doesn't fall asleep in my arms as much as she did when she was a newborn anymore. But once or twice a week I will still catch her drifting off while nursing. I wonder if holding a sleeping baby is the closest to heaven we ever get in this life. I can't help but just stare and stare at her. I want to freeze time and just keep me trapped in these winter days with my little baby ever. I don't want a toddler. I don't want another baby. I just want this one little six month old forever and ever.
June rolls tummy to back. But not back to tummy. She's got standards.
June is quite narcissistic. At her daycare they sometimes put a huge mirror over her crib and June will just lie there and stare at herself all afternoon. She'll straight up sacrifice her afternoon nap if it means she gets to admire herself in the mirror instead. Half the time I go to pick her up after school she's just giving herself a look-talking, making faces, catching up on all the latest gossip with herself.
June's mastered the stare down. She'll challenge anyone, anywhere to a staring contest and win with flying colors. Everywhere we go she stares at people. Right in the eye. Daring them to look her back. It's kind of like she's staring into your soul and reading all your deepest, darkest secrets. It's very comforting to have her around.
And of course, she smiles. All day long.
Now stop growing up, June. I mean it.
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