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Wednesday, March 14

Seven Months Old


Darling Daughter,

Happy Seventh Month, Sweetheart. I can’t understand how it feels like we just brought you home from the hospital yesterday, yet at the same time, it feels like you have been with us forever. Life was definitely less enjoyable and less busy before you, Monkey.
You continue to grow everyday, right before my eyes. You have a big buddha belly, round chubby cheeks as always, and rolls in your thighs you could lose things in. Your hair is beginning to represent fear, as it seems to get a little fuzzier every day. You have two sharp teeth, amazing blue eyes, and eyelashes any woman in her right mind would envy. Absolutely delicious.
In the past month, you have become a very opinionated young lady. For example, it is your strong opinion that toys belong on the floor, rather than in any type of container or box or basket. Although you are not quite crawling yet, you have rolling mastered, and you roll across the living room floor at every waking moment, and do your best to pull you basket down and spill out your toys. It is also a well-known fact around the house that the remotes belong to you and you alone. Any and all of the five remotes. Property of Teagan.
You have very strong feelings about the cow on your favorite DVD. His presence deserves screams and hollers of every pitch and range possible. You have very strong feelings for any child you see—particularly Audrey, as she remains the apple of your eye. Mommy took you to Bridget’s baby shower last month, and I could barely keep you in my lap as you squealed and squirmed in delight at every sight of Mariah P. She’s pretty radical, according to you.
About that crawling thing. You get up on all fours by yourself. You rock back and forth frantically. You arch and release your back. Then you lunge forward, letting your arms fall to your sides, and your legs kick straight out beside you. It works, for the most part. It does allow you to move about 2 inches closer to what ever remote you are after. You have been ready to go for several weeks now, and in due time, your muscles and bones will begin to cooperate, and my current days of chaos will seem like child’s play. Any day now, Monkey.
You talk all day now, a constant stream of babble and screeches and giggles. You blow raspberries like a pro-raspberry blower. You continue to be a happy, joyous, delightful baby, and for that I am so blessed. When I clap my hands and cry “Yaay, Teagan!” you reply with “Aaaay!” It’s a darn good effort!
You still love to eat! You have tried quite a few different foods now, and tend to like everything besides squash and macaroni and cheese. You loooove Chicken Noodle Dinner. You are your mother’s daughter. You have started holding your own bottle now, too. This is a little bitter-sweet, as sometimes when I’m rushing around trying to get ready for work, I really enjoy the freedom of you feeding yourself. But as your independence kicks in and you refuse to let me feed you, when we are winding down and getting ready for bed, I miss this quiet time between us.
Everyday now is something new. Something new you learned or did, or some new aspect of your personality that usually tickles my very heart and soul. When I first had you, there were times that I would look at you and just burst out crying. I couldn’t help it. I was amazed by your beauty and by how much I loved this tiny baby I didn’t even know. Now there are times when I look at you and just burst out laughing. You are funny and amazing and entertaining and precious and more than I ever wanted out of life. I love you Monkey. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Love, Mom

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