You’re six months old today. That’s half a year. As for me, I just calculated that I am now 500 months old. That’s half a lifetime. It’s a well-known fact that time flows more quickly as you get older. These six months have probably seemed like an eternity to you, but I could stand on my head for six months and think nothing of it. You are experiencing so much growth, so many new things, it must be phenomenal. I can’t even imagine the world from your perspective, but I try. Just in the last month you’ve started babbling, your first tooth has come in, and you’ve just started on solid food. Research indicates that sticking to breast milk for the first six months of life can reduce the chance you’ll develop food allergies. Apparently the spaces between cells in your intestine are closed up by now, and you’re starting to produce your own antibodies, so taking in some other food should be safer for you. I’d have liked to delay solids for another month or two but your mom felt it was time. So far you’ve had four or five (tiny) meals of applesauce, and you seem to like it. In general you smile and laugh so much it’s really disarming, and I’ve wondered what on earth you have to be so happy about. You’ve been going to daycare (or “school” as we like to call it) for a month now, and the staff says you’re the happiest baby there. Well, somebody has to be.
People keep warning me that it won’t go on like this forever. Just wait until she starts teething. (And you have been fussier with that tooth coming in.) Wait until she starts crawling. Or walking. Or talking. Wait until she’s ten, or thirteen, or twenty-one. It’s only going to get worse. I’ve realized all these naysayers are doing me an immense favor. They’re managing my expectations. They’ve drummed me up so full of dread that reality can only be a relief.