Chloë turned six months old this Saturday at Confusion, a science fiction convention in Michigan. She loved the convention--there was neat new scenery! And things to look at! And people to smile at! And kids to dance for her! And minions to acquire! Really--we handed out "Chloe's Minion" badge ribbons.
(Note: my camera decided to be funny and force me to format my memory card, deleting the weeks of pictures I had stored on it. I’m still bitter about this. It's good that it happened over the holidays when everyone else was taking pictures, but I had some I really loved on there. The pictures you see are from our new camcorder, which is good for movies but not so good for stills. But it's better than nothing, grumble grumble.)
Chloë at six months is worlds away from the tiny baby she was when she was born. She's not so tiny, for one thing. Her six-month checkup is Friday but we're figuring she's somewhere between eighteen and twenty pounds. She's perilously close to outgrowing her carseat; we're going to have to go shopping for a new one very soon. She has chubby arms and legs, and feet stuffed to capacity, and thigh rolls, and neck rolls, and cheek pads. This isn't new, but it may soon be gone; she moves a lot more now, kicking and grabbing and sitting and occasionally rolling and doing her level best to figure out how to crawl. She hasn't done it yet, but she's getting close. She pushes herself up on her arms, then sort of heaves back onto her knees, then flops down, then gets her knees under her, but she hasn't figured out how to do it all at once.
She loves to sit unsupported and play with whatever's in front of her, and she loves to stand up. We play the sit/stand game now: I tell her "Give me your hands," then take her hands. (Eventually she'll give them to me of her own accord. Someday.) I say, "Sit," and pull her into a sitting position. I say, "Stand," and she bounces to her feet; I say, "Sit," and relax my grip to let her sit down again, and we repeat. She loves to be jumped, and to fly in the air, and to roll off my stomach onto the bed, and to have her belly kissed and tickled. She still isn't doing a full-fledged laugh, but she giggles, hesitantly, as if she's still learning how to do it, which I suppose she is.
We've slowly added more foods to her diet. She tried peas and hates them, tried meats and was ambivalent about them. The current list: rice, oats, sweet potatoes, carrots, corn, green beans, peas, apples, bananas, cherries, peaches, pears, turkey, and beef. We bought some wheat cereal but will wait to offer it until we talk to the doctor about exactly how this transition to solids is supposed to work. That and blueberries, pineapple, potatoes, squash, barley, and maybe rye are next on our list. Also juice and sippy cups.
Her hair is medium brown with golden glints now, subtly different from the dark brown she was born with. Her mohawk remains; her birth hair has been slowly falling out as the new stuff grows in, so she has fine stubble on the sides of her head, but the mohawk is still original. My little cassowary. I'll miss it when it's gone.
She sleeps from nine until four or five now, and goes to bed very easily (except for a few nights there). She does not, however, go down for naps unless she's absolutely exhausted. She'll sleep in the car sometimes, or occasionally in her swing (which she's also outgrowing), but put her down and she screams and screams until we pick her up again. She's definitely a people person.
Sometimes she's very talkative, and we're hearing consonants now--"da" and "gah" and, recently, "umwa." We think it's the sound we make when we kiss her. She talks herself to sleep, and sometimes during the day she'll babble, adding the occasional raspberry. Sometimes she just smiles and drools. At Confusion she and I were in the hotel room for half an hour or so, waiting for Eric, and we just hung out: she clutching a toy, me reading a book, the both of us lying on the bed and smiling at each other. I loved it. I love six months.