Annie. Annie, Annie, Annie. Let me begin this letter to you by offering my sincerest apologies for being so negligent with these monthly letters. If you could count, you would see that 5 months have passed since my last update on you. Five months!! Good grief, Annabel, that is like 5 years in baby time. I am so sorry. Turns out, finding time to write in the midst of our crazy life is easier said than done and some days it came down to making a choice between feeding you and your brother or writing. I'm pretty sure I made the right choice....I'm a great mom like that.
You have changed so much in so many ways and yet you are still very much the same sweet girl I brought home from the hospital. The main differences being that you are about 14 pounds heavier (lordy!!) and you now have 2 teeth. Oh yeah....you are also fully mobile, much to your brother's horror. But other than that, you are still that girl. So sweet. And so, so happy.
Way back when you were 5 months old you were successfully rolling over front to back, but no way no how were going to be on your belly. Nope. Nuh-uh. Um yeah...that has totally changed. In fact, you celebrated your 10th month of life by crawling for the first time. We waited forever for that to happen. You see, once you finally realized that tummy time was not the baby equivalent of chinese water torture, you started scooting, rolling, inching, creeping, everything *but* crawling. You got to where you needed to go, that's for sure, but it took you forever and lucky for Liam, it was pretty obvious what was motivating your journey, so he always had enough time to snatch that treasure out of your stealthy little reach before you were able to do anything really awful, like play with one of his toys. That is not the case any longer and not only are you crawling, girl, you are quick, and Liam is about to lose his mind with your single-minded obsession with all things that belong to him. I think you two are in what the experts call a "transition period". I am likening it to WWIII, but then again, I am in the trenches with you two every day.
You still love him like a fool. Idolize him. Worship him. Honestly, some days I can't imagine why because he is going through quite a "phase" himself. But nevertheless, you cannot get enough of him. You are not fazed one single bit by his screaming fits, his spitting (actually, this you love which is not at all helpful), his snatching of toys or, most annoying to momma, his *constant* policing of all you do. On the contrary, you find him endlessly amusing. He is quite a character, I give you that. But in all seriousness, my birdie girl, I hope you never lose that patience for him and you are always able to see his sweet, kind, gentle, funny and loving spirit beneath all of the exterior annoyances. He needs that in you, that acceptance and love and I hope that when it's all said and done, sibling rivalry aside, you will always be each other's champions.
When we last checked in you were just beginning to venture into the world of solid foods (Wow..it has really been a long time) and you were still spitting up. Well, I am happy to report that your reflux is a thing of the past and has been for, oh I don't know, 4 months now (bad, bad momma). You, in fact, are now *so*over baby food. You want the real stuff. The "grown-up" stuff. And nothing I eat while holding you is safe from your clutches or your alligator jaw chomp-chomp-chomping at my hand. You look like those giant koi at the zoo, your little O of a mouth opening and closing indicating your need for sustenance. The other day you got your mouth wrapped around a pickle I was was trying to eat and received the shock of your life. I wish I could bottle that look to laugh at later. It was pretty damn funny. So, needless to say, we give you the good stuff now, but we also have to force the baby stuff on you too since you haven't quite mastered the whole feeding yourself thing and for every one piece of food you grab off your tray, another 50 end up in your lap and on the floor. Consequently, you have become Levi's best friend.
You are babbling up a storm now. And you are still loud. Really, I would expect nothing less in this house. You say "mamamamama" (bestill my heart) and "dadadadada" (bestill his too) and you have your own special sounds for Liam and doggie. You shake your head back and forth and say "nanananana" and laugh at your cleverness. You clap your hands whenever you do something you are proud of...namely climbing and perching onto things that are not meant to be climbed and perched on. And you shake your head and bounce up and down to music. Your are particularly fond of the banjo. Who knows? You smack at my face or pull at my hair when I am not paying you proper attention, which really does nothing to endear me to you, but you often accompany it with 'mmmaaammm", so I become clay in your pudgy little hands. You are still one of the smiliest, happiest babies around but I am now also learning that you are quite head strong too. Shocking. Sigh. Heaven help your momma.
It's been a fast and furious 5 months, Miss Annie. When I think about how last year at this very moment you were still kickin' it in my belly, it barely seems believable. And when I think about how in 7 short weeks we will celebrate your first birthday, well....well...Well, I just started crying in the middle of Starbucks as I wrote that, so there you go. It is miraculous and wonderful and bittersweet to think about. My life has grown infinitely better because of you.
You keep on truckin', girl.
I love you.
Momma
