six months, and she's more squishable than ever

Before I became a mom, I made a conscious decision to not mourn my baby getting older. Growing up is a privilege, and I wanted to be excited for my baby as she grows up and reaches new milestones.

For the most part, I've been good at living up to my goal.

But I have to admit, a few weeks ago I had to buy bigger diapers, and buying those bigger diapers (diapers, of all things!) got to me. It hit me that she's not my tiny newborn anymore. She's half a year old! Gone are the days when I could squish her into a tiny ball and all she wanted to do was sleep for hours on my chest. Now, I have a smiley, drooley baby who can babble and move her limbs on purpose and sleep by herself in her crib and eat sweet potato mush (I've offered her so many more delicious food items, but all she wants are gross liquefied sweet potatoes. I'll never understand it.).

I think I would be more sad about her growing up if each new stage weren't so darn fun. When you help your child experience things for the first time (cold snow! hot water! twinkling lights! the rabbit toy!), you also get to re-experience your world for the first time. It makes me appreciate the little things more.

It also doesn't hurt that she's so darn cute. Her cheeks and her thighs get fatter by the day, and Sam and I are in heaven. All we wanted was a fat baby (well, we just wanted a baby in general), but don't you agree that chunky babies are pretty irresistible? Ours is. Or at least we think so :)

^^she's already such a ham!

^^she holds onto her feet for a good 60% of every day. And 100% of every minute spent eating.

Happy six months, Squishable!