You're not Zero Anymore

Dear Ella,
My little punkin beans, happy 6 month birthday. You are now officially 1/2 years old. Well technically, your 6 month birthday was two days ago, but you didn't seem to notice. Right now, my love, you are asleep in your crib upstairs with a sock on your right hand. When you learned how to suck your thumb a few weeks ago, I thought it was a blessing because finally you had a way to calm yourself down. Don't get me wrong, sweet pea, I appreciate how strong you've made my legs by insisting on being bounced 14 hours a day, but I'm glad you've found your thumb to be infinitely more satisfying. Unfortunately, you've found your thumb to be so comforting, that you've sucked the skin right off it . Your little thumb is all cracked open and raw, and you spent the entire last night screaming because you wanted to suck your thumb, but it had no skin. So, for the good of our entire family, we socked you.

But to our great surprise, you have demonstrated yourself to be a peacemaker. This morning, for the first time ever, you decided that a pacifier was acceptable. In fact, it seemed not only acceptable, but pretty damn awesome; when judging by the snapping turtle impersonation you did when I held that binky in front of your face. It was very mature of you to compromise and I'm so proud of you. 1/2 years old and you are so reasonable.

This easy-going side of you comes as such a surprise mostly because of the circumstances of your birth. After my C-section with Connor, I was convinced that I had brought the need for surgery upon myself by agreeing to be induced because the Redskins had an away game. Yes, you read that right, baby girl, but we wanted Daddy to be there, so induce I did. But, Baby-Connor didn't know which way was South, and so the doctor had to go get him. However, after I saw Baby-Connor, the largest baby in the nursery, I decided that maybe I really shouldn't try and force a Christmas ham through a toilet paper roll - for the good of the toilet paper roll.

However, with you being a girl, I really thought you'd be able to find your way, and plus I'm stubborn as hell and really didn't want another C-Section. But inevitably, after spending 21 hours trying to find the exact right position to ease a Christmas ham through a toilet paper roll,

I gave up and let the doctor take you. It was worth it.

I've kissed you every day since that day. And though things don't always go the way we plan them, as long as I can kiss your chubby cheeks, we'll be just fine. I love you more than you'll ever know.

Now, forget "da da da da". Let's work on "ma ma ma ma", and when all else fails, squeak.

Love,

Mommy