Hi my little peanut,

We’re inching closer to your birthday than your birth. Can you believe that? In the next few months, you’ll be crawling, and pulling yourself up to things, and walking. You’ll be stealing Henry’s toys even more than you already are. You are enamored with him, swiveling your head around just to find him in the room, keeping your eyes on him always. He is the first to make you smile and the first to distract you from drinking your bottle. (I particularly love when I ask, “Where’s Henry?” and you immediately start looking for him.) He loves you so much and is always helping to entertain you, giving you toys (except the ones he wants, of course), and giving you good night kisses before he turns on your sound machine and throws away your diaper. It’s no wonder you adore him so much.

You started sitting on your own shortly before you turned 6 months old and, I swear, it was only so you could see what is happening around you. You have serious fear-of-missing-out and now you get mad if I lay you down (except for nap time, thankfully, when you roll over and fall asleep). I have a feeling you’ll be quicker to move than Henry was strictly because of your motivation to keep up with him.

You recently started doing this thing where if you get mad or are really tired, you throw yourself backwards, no warning and no hesitation. It’s so alarming and it’s particularly hard if I am carrying you and my other hand is full. So please stop. It cannot be good for your little spine.

You’re transitioning to two naps a day, dropping that third catnap in the early evening, and I forgot how hard this transition is. You’re tired and the evenings are often a power-through to bedtime. We try everything: going outside, taking baths, singing songs, switching out toys. And speaking of toys, your favorite thing to chew on (because teething, ugh!) is a yellow hot wheel car. You pilfered it from Henry one day and it’s since become yours and is constantly covered in saliva.

Speaking of, the drool is constant these days. I have no experience with baby’s getting teeth because Henry didn’t pop his first one until after he was a year old. (Though, for the record, one is definitely still a baby, but moving on…) I can’t feel any teeth coming in, but given your unusual fussiness and drool, I think something’s moving around in those gums of yours.

The summer is winding down—it’s August already!—and though that normally doesn’t mean anything to us since no one is in school in our house, this fall will mean a big change with Henry starting preschool. It’ll just be two mornings a week, but it will be different for all of us. So those will become our times, baby girl. You and me, hanging out.

My sweet girl, I know it could be assumed that I love you, but let me never make you assume that. I love you. I love you so very, very much. You are special. You are unique. You are beloved. It is a joy to be your mother and my heart continuously bursts with overwhelming love and pride. I love you, Perrin.

Mama