Seven Months Old

Dear Rya D.,

You're seven months old today. Your hair is getting blonder, your eyes bluer. You hit several big milestones this month—a road trip, some crawling and two teeth. Your first road trip was a success. We didn't hear a peep from you the whole 8 hour drive to and from your Mimi and Papi's house in Florida. You charmed your grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins and you were an absolute joy at Disney World. You are a good traveler which is a must in this family.

You started crawling this month which means that I have to keep on Currier to pick up his Legos and Matchbox cars and anything else that you could potentially choke on. It's a daunting task and one of my least favorite parts of motherhood. You also cut your first teeth this month which means we had some cranky moments. One evening we couldn't figure out why you were inconsolable until we caught a glimpse of two little white stubs poking out of your swollen, bottom gums. You had to scream your head off for me to see, "Ah ha, she's teething! Can you see them right there on the bottom." I gave you a little Tylenol and a cold cloth to suck on and you looked at me like, "About time woman!" You would think I would know this stuff by now but I'm still an amateur—sorry.

Your father and I still get teased, "Who's baby is that?" People can't understand how two dark eyed, dark haired people can have a blue eyed, blond baby. Just for fun I tell them that I stole you or that you're the mailman's kid. For the record though both your father and I had blond hair as children and a quick lesson in genetics will explain how you ended up with blue eyes.

Rya, you're growing quick and hitting milestones faster than I can clear the floor of choking hazards and spot sore gums. Those are the moments of motherhood that tire me out. A long road trip without a peep, a day at Disney full of smiles and being complimented on your beautiful blond hair and blue eyes are the moments that give me my second wind. And then the wind is knocked out of me when someone says, "That's not your baby is it? She looks nothing like you."

All my love,
Mama