Well, we have officially had 7 months with you, darling drooly boy. You feel so much more grown up to me these days. I said something about that to your Auntie Kate recently–That you’re so big, but when you’re asleep you still remind me so much of a baby and she laughed at me, “He IS still a baby, Caroline!”
But you’ve said your first word, and you can almost consume more than I can at dinner, and you are in to everything within sitting and rolling distance.
If I was to share one story about your sixth month of life though, it would be this:
It was a sleepy Friday morning. You had woken up, and we had tucked you in to snuggle between us since we weren’t quite ready to get going. The curtains from the window were slowly illuminating as the sun came up, and light started peeping through in little golden streaks. You’d been laying there, sweetly, quietly, just happy to be with your parents. I propped myself on one elbow, and turned over to look at you, and smile at your daddy… And as my gaze locked onto his warm deep brown eyes, this tiny little voice triumphantly piped in, “Dada!” We quickly looked down at you in amazement, and you grinned from ear to ear having interrupted our moment, and then looked at your daddy again, and giggled, “Dada”! Your Daddy just grinned, soaking in the moment I think, and I overflowed, instantly awake, “Yes, yes, Gideon! That is your Dada. Your Dada loves you!!” We picked you up and swung you around a little extra that morning. And were incredibly pleased as you showed off your new word at lunch that day with all of our family in town.
The one other thing I will note is that we have all been learning patience. You cannot crawl yet. I was sure you would be crawling all over by now! I was wrong. It has been a slow process. You’re a clever little fella, and you realize that the things we put down on the floor in front of you to incentivize your crawling skills, we could just as easily hand you. So you look at us, and the object, back and forth, and then you try to get on all fours. And then you do, and then you rock back and forth, and then you pancake flat again. And then you look at us, and the item, and you scrunch up your little face and squeal angrily. And sometimes big crocodile tears slip from your eyes, and we all feel so sorry you can’t crawl yet. Mommy and Daddy think you’re so close, and it’d just be so easy if something would “click”. It makes me wonder how often spiritually, we are so close to accomplishing something, but we just keep pancaking. Yet our God is so patient with us and I believe delights in the process. So that is what we have been learning, to be patient and delight in the process. We try to encourage you, and cheer you on, and I can’t tell you how many times we’ve looked silly crawling around the living room floor trying to “show” you. But when you’re done trying, we love you, and we spin you around, and we find wonderful new things to explore together that doesn’t require you being mobile to get there. And I am DEFINITELY soaking up your sweet baby snuggles since you can’t quite leave my lap just yet.
As I am watching your little story unfold, I have watched as you have learned to become steady and stable, and sit up, you have become more observant than you used to be. You sit and play with one thing, and look at it closely, and figure out how it works. You like to try to take things apart already. We aren’t watching you get in to everything yet since you can’t get to everything yet, but we are marveling at you soaking things in slowly, and we are trying to do the same.
