Six Months a Mother

It is my first Mother’s Day as a mother. Incidentally, I’ve also now been a mother for two days shy of six months.

I feel that six months is a pretty significant milestone. Half a year. A half-birthday. It’s also when things start getting significantly easier. Fewer feedings and more smiles. Less crying and more sleep. Reaching out for things she wants, and sometimes she wants me. And that alone is pretty great.

They say that you can tell a lot about what your baby’s adult personality will be very early on. If that’s true, I can already tell that baby girl’s personality and mine will be very similar.

She watches and watches and watches. She’s curious and wants to know how things work.

She can’t stop moving. She doesn’t do well sitting down for long periods of time.

She laughs easily and often.

She’s not mad a lot of the time, but when she is, she’s really mad.

She does things her own way, even if there might be an easier way to do them.

She wants to do everything by herself, even if she can’t quite do it yet.

My hope for her is that she continues to be all these things and more. I hope she grows to be a better version of me; I hope she grows to be the version of herself that she designs.

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