I want to apologize for the great injustice that has befallen you this month. I know your feelings for solid food are less than positive. In fact, I don’t know if there’s a word strong enough to convey your intense dislike of rice cereal. The thing is, I thought you were ready to enter the world of solid food. I really did. While we were at the cabin, you started following our forks with your eyes. And that was it — the telltale, “May I please try that?” sign of solid food readiness! Perhaps you didn’t realize that’s what you were telling me when you so innocently began staring at our food. Now, you have to endure a feeding every evening. With a spoon and everything. Oh, how you hate it! You don’t cry or fuss, but I swear you glare at me as I try to shove the spoon into your mouth, above the tongue you so vigorously push out. I promise someday you will like solid food. Maybe when you’re six months old…
Let us talk instead about your whale spout! Your hair can finally fit into a tiny ponytail on top of your head. This is huge news for Aunt Christine, who tried to make one while we were at the cabin. It was so close, but just wouldn’t stay in. But now, now, it’s official. You have a dark brown whale spout surrounded by a sea of blond hair. You can definitely pull off the two-tone look.
You love your exersaucer, Anna. I think it’s fun for you to “stand” and look at the world from a different angle. After just a few times playing in it, you figured out how to do a complete 360-degree turn. Your favorite toys are the smiling sun and the mirror. You just love looking at yourself in the mirror and shrieking at the sun.
Speaking of shrieking, you are officially the loudest baby I’ve ever met. This month, you’ve learned how to grunt and growl, as well as shriek at a glass-shattering decibel. There is no doubt that you are a soprano, given the notes you hit. You are positively gleeful when you hear the sound of your own voice! There are many times that I try to talk to Daddy or Sam, but have to wait until you’re done with your monologue, so there’s a chance that they’ll hear me. You make yourself heard, Baby Girl, there’s no doubt about that.
You are so friendly, Anna. You never fail to charm people with your huge smiles. Everywhere you go, strangers comment on how darling you are. I want to tell them that not only are you cute, you’re smart! You already love to read books, especially books with faces. Your eyes get really wide, you wave your hands in the air, and talk to the baby on the page as if you’re having a conversation. If the book is especially wonderful, you eat it. This is one of the many reasons why board books are so great — you can read it and chew on it!
I am amazed at how much you’ve grown in your first five months of life, Anna. You love to be with people, in the middle of the action. Your favorite toy is us — our hands, our faces, our attention and interaction. There is nothing I’d rather do than hold you in my lap and make faces with you to hear your laugh and see a smile begin in your eyes. I will always remember the imprint of your baby hands pressed to my cheeks, as if to say, “I know you. I love you.” What more is there than that? I know you, Anna. I love you. For all of my days.