The days, weeks, months are flying by. My baby is 6 months old. When I say flying by, perhaps a more accurate description would be moving by in a haze of sleep deprived stupor. But it's a happy stupor.
How could it not be with a gorgie like this beaming up at you every day? Eating like a trouper. Smiling her sport of choice. Cuddles a favourite too.
Moving forward on her tummy using her legs like a caterpillar. Rocking back and forth on her hands and knees. I'm watching my baby grow in leaps and bounds week by week. I'm delighted for her while at the same time grossly outraged at how quickly the newborn phase passes and how before I know it this little girl of mine will be running amok around my home.
Funnily, it's this same reliance on the changing of phases that I hold onto when my eyes are hanging out of my head once again from a busy night shift. It's a phase. It'll be over soon.
How bittersweet motherhood is. We break out hearts if we think our children may not be thriving, yet they also break when they do. Thriving means growing. Growing means changing. Changing means that time is passing. Quickly. I'll be discussing world events over a cuppa with Is before I can blink, and I know it. I'm acutely aware of it. And yet I look forward to it.
For now at 6 months of age I'm loving being the centre of her universe. Having her rely on me for everything. My heart feels like it moves in my chest when she smiles at me. When she tries to take the spoon off me to feed herself. When I walk back into a room and she's halfway to the other side of it beaming at me with pride.
Go on then - thrive my lovely one. But go easy on me - my heart can only take so much! x
PS. Two milestones to note:
- Received her first black eye as an accidental gift from her sister.
- Slept in the pram - finally!!!