Letter to Connor {6 months}

CP- you are six months old! ...And a bit. Yes, I know this letter is late. Let's just accept the fact that every monthday letter from now until the end of time is going to be at least 3 days late (and possibly as many as 30 days late). Working from that continuing assumption, I won't have to acknowledge my tardiness every time I start a post.

Instead, I will be free to start every post with: WOW, YOU WEIGH A LOT!! {Ok, maybe that wouldn't be the most tactful way to start a letter to you on, say, your 30th birthday. but at 6 months old, I'm going to assume that your self-esteem will be in no way impaired by the fact that you are in the 415th percentile for height, weight, and head circumference.} At your 6 month checkup, you logged a solid weigh-in of 23 pounds even, and 28 1/2 inches long. To put that in perspective, that's the average length for a 9 month old, and the average weight of a 12 month old. Today I asked your dad if he would mind considering a change of career field from consulting to chiropractic. I've got to either start lifting weights or get fitted for a back brace, because at this rate we are going to need a forklift to pick you up by 9 months old. {I think that at least 10 of your 23 pounds consist of cheeks and chin(s). We last saw your neck sometime in early January.} 99% of your abundant wardrobe consists of {amazingly cute} hand me downs from your second cousins Jack, Brendan & Nickolai. The twins are a full year older than you, but I fear that you will shortly surpass their size, and I will have to actually buy you some clothes. slow down, nugget!

So, you're more of a tank than a "peanut," but that doesn't stop us from calling you the latter. We also call you "nugget" {see above} and, sometimes, "meatball," and have recently started referring to you as "t-rex" due to a curious and kind of alarming growling noise that you make. also, we call you connor. occasionally.

Given all of the above, we are admittedly quite surprised that you're not more enthusiastic about eating "first foods" like rice cereal, oatmeal, and pureed banana. After giving said mush a disgusted lip curl, you proceed to humor us by taking about 10 tiny spoonfuls, then stonewalling any further entry into your mouth. We find this all rather ironic since you put absolutely everything into your mouth, except your lovingly prepared homemade organic baby food. Disgusting junk mail insert covered in toxic inks? Yum! Washcloth & rubber ducky? Yes, goes in mouth! Bibs, burpcloths? MMM, yum! Organic banana puree? The horror! This week I think we are going to try peas, carrots and sweet potato. Maybe one of these will be to your liking. If not, I will soon be googling how to clean pea mash out of roman shades.

All in all, you are a fantastically happy baby. You cry so infrequently that when the rare occasion for tears does present itself, your dad and I freak out, thinking that you must be seriously injured. You smile, giggle, coo, yell, squeak, and growl all day long, and we can't get enough of your constant entertainment. You are starting to be more independent, enjoying your toy-throttling time in the exersaucer while I make your bottles or drink some coffee. Every month you amaze us more and more. It's truly an incredible experience to watch someone see and learn things for the first time. You approach every moment with an unyielding curiosity that invites me to see old things in new ways {and reminds me to keep my coffee far, far away from your grabby curiosity}.

Lately, our family has had to grapple with the sad news of the far-too-soon passing of your very first little cousin, Grace Elizabeth. We all had big plans for you and Gracie, who would have been less than a year apart in age. You never got a chance to meet your little cousin, but she has impacted all of our lives just the same. Her death is a painful reminder that all of our days are numbered, and though we plan and plan and plan for the future, we are only promised today. this moment. so we keep her close to our hearts and try to fill each moment with more of the kinds of memories that we want to comprise "our life" when the sum total of all of these moments is finally calculated-- baby snores, morning coffee, neighborhood walks in the moby, good-morning kisses, and good night stories.

Our lives, and our hearts, are so full thanks to you, nugget. You are 6 months old, and we are loving each moment as it graces our lives.

Love,
Mommy.

p.s. overdue pictures of the cuteness below.

We have a book that "reads" itself to Connor, but he won't even let the narrator get through the first sentence of "Animals are big and small; can you count them all?"