Dearest Hatchling,
This last weekend, you turned seven months old. They say seven is a lucky number, and it must be true where babies are concerned, because this definitely feels like the golden time of your infancy. You're still cuddly and sweet, and you haven't yet introduced us to the terrors of having a mobile child, but you're learning new tricks all the time and getting independent enough to entertain yourself - and us - more and more.
You haven't indicated any interest in crawling yet, but you sure do like to have us walk you around the room. It didn't take you long at all to get the hang of the one-foot-in-front-of-the-other shtick, and if your balance is a little nonexistent, you more than make up for it with the huge smile and coos that tell us you're extremely pleased with yourself for figuring this out. You're also absolutely entranced by your own reflection, so one of your favorite places to "walk" to is the mirror in the living room, where you can lean in and give your reflection an open-mouth baby kiss. Which is so damn cute I just about implode every time you do it.
Speaking of cute, I'd like to go on record right here and now that your besotted parents are not the only ones who think you're the sweetest little bunch of yumminess since baby fairy penguins. (Seriously: Baby. Fairy. Penguins.) A few weeks ago we were making one of our regular pilgrimages to Babies R Us for numerous items, including a dress for you to wear to your aunt's wedding in December. While we were there, we stopped by the "Kiddie Kandids" (I know: gag) to see what their prices and packages were like, since we'd been thinking of getting some formal photos done. The staff took one look at your little face and another look at the frock we were getting and said "You have to let us take a picture of your baby in that dress! For free! We'll give you an 8 x 10!" Half an hour later, you'd done a whole modeling session with set and prop changes and two different outfits. Of course, they knew perfectly well that we'd never walk out of there without several copies of every pose they shot, so they had a slight interest in telling us how cute you were - but it's also true that I can almost never go anywhere with you without someone stopping me to say that you're so precious, or pretty, or darling.
We think you're going to be shy, like I was when I was little. You're extremely gregarious when it's just us and the cats at home, or with a few select relatives, but you're pretty wary of unfamiliar faces. Strangers are more likely to get the inscrutable stare than one of your neon smiles, and if they get too close too fast, tears will be just around the corner. You don't care too much for anyone but me or your daddy to hold you right now, though you'll occasionally tolerate the arms of a doting aunt or grandma. But along with being shy, you also already seem to have a sense of politeness. It's like you know when it's important to behave, when I have to drag you to a meeting for the theatre company, or when we're standing in a long line at the airport, or going to a doctor's appointment. Even if you're tired and off your schedule, you mostly keep it together until you can get home and have a bottle and a nap. I imagine that this pliancy won't last once you hit the "terrible twos" but lord knows I'm grateful for it now.
Things you especially love this month: baths - oh, how you love your baths! cookies you can eat by yourself (and by "eat" I mean "apply as a facial"), grabbing the cat in the face, drumming your little hands on your highchair tray, and your nice blue blanket to snuggle. Things you hate: having your face washed, tummy time, changing clothes, and being bored.
You're growing like crazy both physically (you're bigger than several one-year-olds we know) and in your personality. You're developing a fine sense of humor, and a whole new vocabulary of baby sounds, including shrieks that could probably shatter glass and certainly my eardrums. Your whole face lights up when your daddy comes home, and when you're tired you like to bury your face in my neck and burrow. In short, you're one highly satisfactory kid. Keep up the good work.
Love,
Mamala
