Another month, Queener beaner. I get used to telling people one number, and suddenly you’re another month older. It’s definitely bittersweet.
You are currently still battling a cold, as it seems you have been most of your little life. You take it well, but your breathing is painful to listen to, and you get this awful booger mustache, which I put off cleaning as long as possible because you scream like a banshee when I do. It seems unfair – this must be what you think life is.
On a higher note, I know it’s just a sound and not a word, but your new go-to baby noise is “mama mama” and it totally warms my heart. I think your dad is jealous, because I frequently hear him cooing to you, “dada dada”. But clearly I’ve already won.
You are starting to enjoy food, and getting much better at swallowing it. Rice is a big hit, beans are good, yogurt is messy but appreciated. Avocados and bananas irritate you because they’re slippery, but oranges with all the skin trimmed off have proven good for both gripping and nomming. You don’t eat much, but you have fun doing it.
I think we are still a month or two from crawling, but you pivot, log roll, and scootch yourself around enough to liven things up. Junip and I like to set you up with a little circle of toys before we read, so you can spin your way around and stay entertained. You are impossible to read with; you only want to eat books, and it infuriates you to be held so tantalizingly close but denied.
More and more, you’re able to engage with the family. Eating meals with us, sitting in your Babypod on the counter while your dad cooks, sitting and babbling with Junip in the stroller. You’re not just the little being strapped to us while we do our thing; you’re part of it. A little more autonomous each day.