My little one

You turned 6 months old this week and decided to mark the occasion by sitting on your own.  I was fastening a button on your dungarees as you sat trying to grab your toes, when I realised how steady you were.  I put some cushions around you and gradually eased away – will you stay upright?  You didn’t seem to notice, your attention fixed firmly on a rabbit soother near your foot.  But steady you remained.  And so I sat there watching, as you began hitting the unsuspecting rabbit repeatedly on the floor in delight.  What a little boy you are now, I thought, transfixed by you just sitting there.  You stopped hammering the rabbit against the floor and looked at me.  You paused … smiled and then began stuffing the rabbit in your mouth.  We sat there for a while – you, the poor battered rabbit and I – and I thought about all the other milestones that we will reach in the next six months.  It seems incredible to me that you are already six months old (and that you can now sit up unsupported).  And yet, thinking back to a time before you were here seems like a lifetime ago.  I guess it was…

You have changed so much recently.  You love ‘peekaboo’.  You beam at me when I smile at you.  (You smile at anyone who smiles at you, especially women!).  You study people.  You make a face when you are frustrated.  You love to be tickled (and giggle in anticipation).  You’ve started eating finger food (I am sure you are going to have an appetite to rival your father’s).   You babble a bit – saying ‘da da da’ (you seem to say it when you’re particularly pleased about something).  You concentrate on your toys, and you gaze at your surroundings intently.

And just when I think how grown up you suddenly seem, your father carries you through in your pyjamas, fresh from a bath, and I smile.  It may have been six months since they first placed you on my chest, you may look like a little boy and sit up on your own, but I know that, for now at least, you are still my little one.

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