, , ,

You were 8 months old on Saturday. 8 months.

You drink all by yourself. Both water and milk. You grab your bottle and drink/eat and half way through, you pause, check how much more you have and continue. And you repeat that action couple of times. As much as that fills me with pride, it leaves a strange empty feeling inside of my heart cause you don’t need me to feed you any more.

You are reading out loud to me; it doesn’t bother you at all that the book is up-side-down.

You try to stand on your own two feet but your legs are still to weak. Your persistence is incredible –  if I did for 15 minutes what you are doing for an hour, I would die. Your energy is limitless.

You make so many new sounds now. Mostly ta ta ta. Is it possible you are calling out to your dad already? If that’s true, I have to admit, I’m kinda jealous. Just a little bit.

You move ALL THE TIME. 24/7.

It doesn’t seem to me you are pro crawler for now; all you want to do is stand up. Most of the time you are in “Downward Facing Dog” pose; seriously, you could teach yoga class how to do it properly. Please, baby girl, wait at least two more months before you start walking. Ok?

Your explore everything; first with your fingers than with your mouth (yes, that phase is still very actual). Today you got your hands on piece of cotton wool; ohhh, the wonder. In the afternoon, you explored our woolly carpet. Again.

You saw snow for the very first time yesterday. We were glued to window for an hour or two just looking outside. All that time you were looking out than back at me. Out than back at me. Like you were saying “Look mammy! Look!”. You help me look differently at things I’ve been taking for granted for so so long.

You love play time. We spend hours every day playing with you on the floor. One of your favourite games is hide and seek; the other day I hid behind a sofa and after I revealed myself to you, you laughed so hard you fall back. So sorry about that.

You have 1 tooth! Weeeee! 19 more to go.

The “Battle of the Shoes”. And your constant intolerance to any kind of shoes on your feet. Boots, slippers, tennis shoes – you take off every pair in a matter of seconds. And its freezing outside. What kind of girl are you?! Girls should be crazy about shoes! If we lived somewhere worm 365 days a year, I would let you be barefoot but here… sorry little girl, this is a battle you won’t win.

You can sit up on your own now. I missed your first “sit up” cause I had to got to the bathroom (grrr!); I left you on your tummy and when I got back – you were sitting up smiling back at me. Couldn’t you wait for 5 minutes more for me to be present? No?

There is a belief children choose their parents/families before birth. If that is true, thank you for choosing us. I promise you we will be the best parents we can be. Love you, baby girl.

Barbara Tursan Misic Photography