She’s already wearing 12-18mo pajamas and I’m pretty sure the 18-month-old we saw walking around the playground the other day is a full five pounds tinier than our not-so-little Dutch girl. This is Ali at eight months.
Old Man Face
Ali is enamored with her new teeth (four in total) and loves to bite her top lip with her bottom chompers. This is the result:
Her Love for Food Runs Deep
Whether she’s chowing on steak or green beans, bacon or brussel sprouts, Ali happily hums while shoveling food into her face. It’s adorable, and I also cringe/laugh/cringe at the idea of her continuing to do this as an adult. I can see it now… Ali’s out to lunch with a client. She closes the deal, but not before she takes a moment to appreciate the perfection that is her steak frites with an audible and satisfied “mmnommnomm.”
Jabba the Hutt
While many babies are army crawling/scooting/cruising/slithering their way across the floor by any means possible at Ali’s age, our little chunk is happy to sit in one spot and play with her wooden spoon and measuring cups thankyouverymuch. Our pediatrician calls babies like Ali blob babies. Michael and I affectionately refer to her as our Jabba the Hutt. Either way, we’re grateful for the few extra weeks of having a stationary pre-crawler. She’s just now starting to wiggle her weight forward into a half pigeon pose when she reaches for toys, and I’m foreseeing that turning into crawling before we can say “did you amazon prime those baby gates yet?”
Belly Dancer Hands
Ali’s hands are always moving, especially when she’s full of energy. Sometimes we call them her “Joan Nash” hands. Not because we think she’s John Nash crazy, but because we like to think her brain is Beautiful Minding something we couldn’t even begin to comprehend while her hands interpretive dance to the music in her mind.
Baby Gets Her Own Room
Up until this past month, all three of us had been sleeping in one pretty small bedroom together. It was lovely sleeping with our tiny little roommate at first, but at around the five month mark, silently vaulting over the bed to avoid crashing into the crib at night was starting to get old. We moved into our newly remodeled house this month, which means that Ali finally has her own room. I’d show you pictures and do a grand reveal of her amazing nursery, but it’s not very exciting yet. The walls are blank white and the room contains nothing more than some basic furniture, but ohmygawd she sleeps so much better in her own bare-walled space. And mom and dad aren’t minding having our own space either.
Flips and Things
We are so ready for mommy-and-me gymnastics classes. (Ugh, gag at the phrase “mommy-and-me.”) I flipped Ali onto my shoulder on a whim the other day, and now she wants to do it all. the. time. She’s also a huge fan of bouncing in and bottoming out her giant Jolly Jumper monstrosity. Too bad the kid’s going to be way too tall to be a gymnast.
Earlier this month, Ali pointed at Bubba the dog and said, “Bubba.” But then she pointed at Shasta the dog and also said, “Bubba.” So who knows. She also recently got the hang of her m’s, and she’s been saying things that sound suspiciously like mom when she’s trying to get my attention. Babbling or real first words, her little noises make my heart melt and I’ll take ’em however I get ’em.