You are, this very minute, 6 months old. That's half a year!
Your Uncle Alex, Granny, and Grandaddy are here for a visit this weekend. Uncle Alex pointed out that today you were as far from your birthplace as you've ever been. We looked at him, a little confused. In terms of the solar system, he explained. Oooh, of course, in terms of the solar system. But it's true, you're on the other side of the sun, half a lap, one of many laps around the sun. Even though in 6 months time you'll be back where you started, in terms of the solar system, there's no going back. You're zooming forward, growing and changing before our eyes. You have one little tooth now, it appeared this week after much drama and tears and sleepless nights. You've started on a few solids, some banana, cooled cucumber to gnaw on to sooth your gums, some beans, some carrot. Your favourite food is still your milkies, I hope it continues to be for many years.
You continue to amaze us, and everyone, with your tenacity and eagerness to be active, to get going and moving and running and jumping. Well, not quite running and jumping, but you are definitely on the move. Your crawling technique is flawless, you zoom across the floor after any cat who happens into your eye line. Luckily for them you're often distracted by something before you reach that tempting tail. Your latest trick is to try to stand up using a box. It's a file of our important documents. Somehow you found it one day and you're obsessed with it. You put both hands on it, hauling yourself up, feet firmly planted. Then up and down, up and down you go. It ends with a squeal, as you push up and fall down, with a plonk, on your nicely padded bottom. I tried to put the file away and you immediately started to try and climb the couch. I decided to give you the box back, it seeming less hazardous.
You are an intense little creature, constantly moving and squirming and crawling and pulling down books and banging on windows and chasing cats and pulling down my shirt, looking desperately for your milkies. The only time you're still is when I'm moving, which is why when it all gets a bit much for your Mumma, I strap you into our mei tai and get outside and moving. We live in an area with a lot of hills, and I'm really enjoying plodding up them. I'm a little slow, but we get there. You're still, taking it all in, twisting to see cars whizz by, gazing silently at people as they coo and try to get you to smile. I suppose because I've been carrying you since you were the size of this - . (a full stop) you don't feel heavy to me, despite you now being nearly 10kg. I stopped and talked to an older woman last week, she said how lovely it must be for both of us, to have you so close to me. It is lovely, I told her I'll carry you for as long as I can, she smiled and said that after that I'll still carry you in the same place, in my heart. That's just where you belong, my Juni.
I hope you enjoyed your half-birthday, surrounded by people who just adore you so. I've never seen your Grandaddy gaze at something with such affection. That's the power you have, you spread joy to everyone around you. Here's to another joyful month, my love.
Love, Mumma.
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