7.5 months

My dearest Ethan,

My oh my how things have changed! You're 7.5 months old now and it is both terrifying and exciting at the same time in the most wonderful of ways. Your daddy and I gave you your first haircut a few weeks ago... a mohawk! The fuzz on the back of your head is gone and there was never much on the sides of your head to begin with, so all that's left is that cute tuft of curls on top. ADORABLE! I cried a little when we started snipping, but after it was over you looked so pimp! In an adorable baby way, of course. It's very punk meets pampers and the look totally works for you.

Your eyes are big and bright and blue and are always looking for something to get into. You have the biggest most genuine smile I have ever seen and 6 teeth! 6! Four on top and two on the bottom, and holy hell do they hurt! Sometimes you mistake my nipple for a wad of chewing gum, so let me just say that if I wanted my nipples pierced I would get it done professionally, but thanks anyway. Your legs and arms and belly are perfectly plump, perfectly round and soft and warm. You still have that awesome baby smell and I kiss and hug you every chance I get to soak it all up, because I know that soon you will want to be independent, and you'll push me away and my heart will break.

You have plump little sausagey fingers and toes, and dimples in your hands and elbows. You really are the perfect little cherub that I dreamed about when I was pregnant. They simply do not get any cuter than you. You are sitting up now on your own, but who wants to sit up when you can crawl to the nearest dustball on the floor and shove it in your mouth? You've yet to "officially" crawl, and I'm starting to think that you'll skip this milestone altogether and go right to walking. You seem perfectly content with the army crawl, where you use your hands, arms and feet to push yourself where you want to go on your belly. At first I thought this was cute, but just the other day I ran into the back room to put some laundry away and left you on the living room rug lying on your back. When I returned not one minute later you were gone. I found you behind a couch pulling on the cord to a lamp. Holy hell, you move quickly! TIME TO BABYPROOF!

Your favorite pastime is terrorizing the dog. You follow him around constantly and he can do nothing in peace. You squeal with delight when you manage to sneak up behind him, and Bogart is so stressed from this that I think he's starting to lose his hair. HILARIOUS! You also enjoy watching me vacuum. You get excited when I bring it into the living room and watch with fascination as I suck up all the dirt that you probably want to put in your mouth. You watch Baby Einstein's "Baby Di Vinci" every day and I'm afraid that you will start speaking in French or Spanish and I won't be able to understand you. I know that "La Bouche" and "La Boca" mean mouth, but that's about it.

You eat baby cereal and fruit every morning and have juice, chicken or turkey and a vegetable each evening, and you breastfeed the rest of the time. You're mastering the art of the sippy cup and in the next few weeks we'll start you on soft finger foods. I think you'd be happy to breastfeed forever but you might have a hard time getting a date later in life if we did that, so I plan to wean you completely when you're one year old, when you can go straight to cow's milk. I think you'll do just fine. You never did like formula or drinking from a bottle for that matter, and that's perfectly fine with me.

Your daddy recently lowered your crib, so now you look like a caged zoo animal when we put you to bed. I also took off the crib bumpers as I'm sure you were planning on hanging them over the side of your crib Rapunzel-style and making a clean escape.

You insist on crashing for the night by 6 o'clock, and after that your soul is taken over by the devil himself and the gates of hell swallow us whole. You stay asleep for a good 5 or 6 hours, which means that I can now have a glass or two of wine when daddy gets home and not have to worry about pumping and dumping or getting you drunk. We will drink together when you're older, at least 9 or 10, when you're daddy and I teach you how to beer bong. I promise.

You're very social and taking you places is an absolute joy. Everyone falls in love with you, and you get tons of compliments on your gorgeous eyes and studly haircut. You smile at everyone and I am very lucky and proud to be your mama.

When I've emptied my bag of baby entertaining tricks for the day and you've eaten all the dustballs off the floor, I'll take you to the couch and snuggle with you, where you'll grab at my hair or pick my nose and babble your sweet baby talk. We make each other belly laugh from the core. You have a great sense of humor and I love it. I really couldn't ask for a better baby. Someday I hope you'll say the same about me.

I love you with all of my heart and soul.

XOXO,
mama

P.S. I am not at all keen on your newly solid poo. It freaks me out.