It seems like just yesterday that HH was born. And suddenly, she’s seven-and-a-half months old. Where did the time go? (I think I lost a fair amount of it in the fog of those early months.)
And practically overnight, she went from being a swaddled blob (albeit a beautiful blob) to crawling to pulling herself up!
Before I know it she’ll be walking, then running, then driving!
Okay, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. Or am I? Every mother I’ve talked to has told me that it goes by fast, too fast.
And as I watch her becoming more and more active (she’s trying with all her might to stand up!) and wanting to explore- everything- she seems like seven months going on seven-teen.
I can see the wheels in her head spinning as she surveys what I think is the perfect baby-proofed house. Then she fixates on the lamp in the corner, then her eyes move down to the cord. She crawls over and pulls. And even though I have the cord in one of those “protective” outlet covers, there’s still just enough for her to pull.
And I realize that she’s found the loophole. And even though I moved the lamp, she’ll find more loopholes in the years to come. Because my parenting will never be perfect. (Oh how I hate admitting that!)
HH is smart and curious and growing up. And these things make me equal parts happy and sad. Because no longer is she my little swaddled blob that eats, sleeps, repeats. She’s so much more than that.