Has it really been that long? How is it possible that it seems like yesterday AND like a lifetime ago that you came into my life?

I’ve now known you for nearly a month longer ouside the womb than inside — 8 months and 2 days passed between learning about your existence and giving birth to you. You’re more fun every day, and with each month that passes you change more and more rapidly. I thought that babies changed the most early on, then things slowed down…boy was I wrong about that! One of the songs I sing to you (sheesh, I should probably learn ALL of the words) is “Getting to Know You.” Finding out who you are is thrilling!

At this moment, you’re sleeping peacefully in your crib (knock on wood) while I wrap up my day, and put off washing the dishes. Only two weeks ago, your sleeping the the crib was impossible because you were teething and utterly ~desperate~ to have me hold you.

Yes, you have teeth now! Two of them popped through on your lower gums last week. So far, you’ve been pretty good about not biting me, which honestly, is in your benefit. Biting isn’t funny, and it ends your dinner. Please don’t continue with the “I’ll bite you so you put me down” routine…just stop sucking and smile, and I’ll get the point.

You’re all over the place now, and moving faster with every day that passes. Less than two weeks ago, I could set you down and be reasonably certain that when I came back, you’d be within a few feet of where I placed you. Now? Fuhgeddaboutit! You’re exploring the house, terrorizing the dogs (who make you giggle), and eating any and every piece of stray lint/paper/dog hair you find on the floor. What an inspiration you’re becoming! My house has never been cleaner. (grin)

You still charm every person you meet. Seriously, if you’re not the prettiest little baby girl ever, you’re darned close. We wander up and down the aisle in the grocery store (where you now sit in the cart, so you can have a better view) and you babble to me, telling me all about your day. Ba-ba-lala-blah-blah-da-da. It’s serious stuff. Keep trying, and someday, I might even actually understand you. I don’t tell you now, but you know when I answer you? I’m totally faking it. I don’t have a clue what you’re going on about, other than that it’s cute.

Sometimes I worry that you’ll develop a hangup that Mama only likes to take you out for all the positive attention she gets. Of course, the very fact that I worry about things like that likely means that I’m doing fine.

We’ve started doing “real” hikes finally! While we walk along the trails, I try to point out the sights, sounds, and smells…and remind you that before long, you’ll get to carry yourself on the trail! For now, I’m more than happy to be your own personal pack-animal. This morning, as you, the dogs, and I passed a man on the trail, he commented, “that’s quite a load you have there!” My reply, “Yup…I’ve got a sack of sugar on my back!” I get sappy like that about you.

Last time we went to see the doctor, you were barely eating cereal. These days, you eat anything that’s not nailed down, both food and non-food. On the food front, you love oatmeal. Oh, how you love oatmeal. You also love chocolate — anything sweet for that matter. Other food: you’ll eat pretty much anything I share with you, other than jarred baby vegetables. I agree with you that those are gross; why eat that when you can have fresh broccoli off mama’s plate? Today, you tried pad thai, and did great, even with the bit of spiciness. A tiny piece of an Andes mint *did* help for after, though.

There are so many things to remember, I couldn’t possibly touch on them all. I just hope that journaling our lives here will give you something to look back on someday. What you should know, more than anything, is that you’re the best thing I’ve ever done, and you’re the best part of my life, PERIOD. You inspire me to become the best me I can be, not only for my own good, but also so I can set a healthy example for you.

~~~~~~~~~Doctor Visit Stats~~~~~~~~~

Weight: 14 pounds, 3.2 ounces (not even on the chart)
Length: 26.5 inches (20th percentile)
Head: 16.5 inches (5th percentile)

For all the hoo-hah about growth spurts, you’re still TINY. I was off by a full pound in what I’d expected. Your doctor’s comment: “Well, if you’d tie her to a chair, maybe she’d gain more weight, but I think we’d rather she crawl.”

You got three shots today, but the piece of Andes mint I saved from lunch seemed to help you get past being upset about it…although you turned nearly purple during.

One glitch: left hip pop. We’ve been referred to an orthopedist, and I have a call in to get an appointment. This might explain your push with the right, drag with the left mode of crawling. Then again, it might not. I’ll look it up on the Internet to see what I can learn, of course.

Update: Maya will see the orthopedic doctor next Friday, July 1.

So many parents push their kids to be the smartest, the best, the brightest. While I believe you may well be all of those things, I’ll try to never push you into them. My highest hope for you is that you grow up as a happy and well-adjusted girl who knows that she’s loved.