7 Months

Dear North,

You are officially seven months old and still our happy giggling little baby. My favorite time of day is when I open the front door at lunch time and hope for you to be awake. Often I find you bouncing happily in the doorway of the office while daddy works. Or you might be rolling around the office trying to make your way to one of the pets or kissing your reflection in the metal diaper pail. 

You also love to play a game with your dad where he pretends to chase you as you bounce/run away from him. We could listen to your little squeals and giggles all day long.

Your personality has somewhat taken a turn towards stubbornness, which might be explained by the fact that you are an Aries. Sometimes, you are kind of a baby and throw a fit when you don't get your own way. Curiosity draws you to the very objects you are not supposed to have and then when I retrieve said deadly object from your tiny paw, you freak out. I'm not sure of the best way to deal with this new behavior. I mean, I want to teach you early on that you can't always get what you want. But then I remember that you're only 7 months old and logic does not work on you. So normally, I opt to distract you out of your distress by making farting sounds with my mouth or whistling. 

Earlier today, your father managed to stave off a tantrum by putting a magazine a few feet in front of you. You are infatuated with paper.  You have started hybrid crawling, which is part rolling, a little bit of leg dragging and actual crawling used in combination to hilariously and awkwardly get you where you want to go. This new development is amazing to watch as you huff and puff and focus all of your energy on the task of moving. You are one determined little guy already. You are going to be more of a handful as each new day dawns.

Two bottom teeth have sprouted up in the last month, which has made uninterrupted sleep a distant memory. That's not really a new development though. Pain does not seem to be your thing and we can tell the days when your teeth are hurting because you become one sad little puppy. When you feel yucky, you like to keep us in sight as much as possible. The only thing that seems to help is cuddling. And whiskey.

Now that you have some teeth, I've been transitioning you away from purees and towards chunky mushed up food. The process is both comical and painful. Occasionally, you make a sort of choking noise, much like a cat coughing up a hairball when the new texture first hits your tongue. The choking noise is often preceded by a face that cringes as if to say, "why are you feeding me toe jam?" Needless to say, tears have been shed during the dinner hour. Again, this is a new area of parenting where I'm winging it. I'm afraid to give you a bad association with a food by making you finish it and yet, I refuse to waste food either. The thing is North, you cannot live on sweet potatoes, carrots and squash your whole life. I worry about you turning orange if I allowed such habits to form. You don't want to become an oompa loompa do you? I'm not a rascist or anything but in the real world, people just use oompa loompas for their proximity to chocolate rivers. I just don't want to see you degraded by some candy factory recluse and forced to dance while singing rhyming fables. You deserve a better life than that my son. So please start eating green foods for mama okay?