You’re five months old today. Things you’ve liked this month: watching Kerri, dancing with mommy and daddy, and indiscriminately sticking things into your mouth. Things you’ve hated this month: your car seat, staying at home for too long, and Oh my god, how did you not take me out of this bouncer five minutes ago? What kind of mother doesn’t predict that I’m going to want out of the bouncer now?
You’ve started grabbing at things with one hand. Though this wouldn’t seem like an important milestone, it’s actually quite impressive. You see, for the longest time, you were smacking both hands together as if you were very impressed with the elephant’s performance of appearing right in front of you and somehow magically catching the elephant in your hands. Now, you’re very obviously attempting get the elephant into your hand on purpose and consequentially into your mouth.
You do love putting things into your mouth. Your hands in your mouth, my hands in your mouth, your toys in your mouth, your diaper in your mouth, my book in your mouth, did I mention you like putting things in your mouth? As long as it’s not a dangerous something in your mouth (by the way, totally not cool to stick mommy’s pen down your throat), it’s just fine. Back in the days when I was child- and care-free, I hated the drooling that accompanied babies sticking everything in their mouths. It was probably the thing that I loathed the most about potential parenthood. Now, it’s just a regular day to day thing. I got your drool on my face today and guess what? I didn’t even gag.
Your father and I are hippie, attachment parenting folk and decided to co-sleep. Well, sort of decided. Quite honestly, I was entirely against co-sleeping when I was pregnant. I was thoroughly convinced push you off the bed like I did to your great-grandma or roll over on you. After you were born, I realized that it was a necessity. The issue there was that our bed is not co-sleeping safe. We had no guardrail (to prevent mama from pushing granny off the bed), our bed is a pillow top (perfect for smushing little baby faces until they can’t breathe) and Kerri refuses to sleep anywhere besides under the covers snuggled right up against me and dad. So, we decided to side-car the crib.
With this new fantastic device, our sleep immediately and drastically improved. That is, until now. I put you to bed and then come out here and do fancy non-baby things like type with two hands or watch a television show without hitting pause. A few nights ago, I decided to have a fruity, alcoholic, pomegranate drink–which I might mention was totally deserved–for the first time since you were a wee one in my belly and I didn’t even know you existed. This was something that I racked my brains over for months because I was afraid of what it might do to my supply or what if my milk tasted bad and you didn’t like it or what if I hurt you?!?! Little did I know, you came up with an entirely new reason for me to be paranoid about drinking.
Apparently after having my one fruity, alcoholic, pomegranate drink, I fell asleep on the couch. Falling asleep on the couch is not foreign to me and on any other night wouldn’t be a big deal. Normally, when you wake up to be fed for the first time in the night (about 4 hours after you go to sleep–high five!) I hear you on the baby monitor making little whimper noises and go in and feed you and fall back asleep. This night, in my warm-cheeked sleep, I didn’t hear your whimper noises and then was suddenly woken by a S.C.R.E.AM. coming from the room. As you’d image, your father and I go running in the room and you’re on the floor. You moved all the way down to the bottom of the bed and then sideways on order to get to the floor. At the time, I cried until you fell asleep (and then cried some more for being such a horrible mother), but now I just feel impressed. My daughter wiggled all the way down the bed and sideways onto the floor! That’s practically crawling! Did I mention she’s only 5 months old?!?! Old grandmas will be telling stories for the next 200 years of the baby that wiggled all the way down and off the bed at only 5 months.
Mommy will try her hardest to write you a newsletter every month on your “birthday” from now on. I’m even creating an alarm in my phone for it. Sorry that I’ve failed in the creating memories department thus far, but I’d like to thing I make up for it in the changing bums in less than a minute, feeding you 5,000 times a day, and figuring out a bedtime routine that actually works departments.