8 months

Dear Daileyanne,

You are eight months old now. EIGHT MONTHS! Our friends are getting ready to bring their triplets home and it's made me dip into my memories of our own teeny little baby. How could you have ever been that tiny? How will I ever cope when I turn around to find the face of a 5 year old/16 year old/25 year old looking back at me?!

The corner to independence is just around the bend. You've found that if bored in this room you can just go to another room. I blink and you're gone, cruising on to your next adventure! After all there is bookcases that need emptying, cupboards that need rearranging and scraps of fabric that need eating. Yesterday I looked up and found you with a length of black string dangling from the side of your mouth. You looked like a happy happy cat that had eaten a mouse. (I laughed really hard at that one)

So lets see.. what's new? The crawling for sure. And the standing up. We have a footstool that rolls and you find it so frustrating when just as you are almost pulled up it scoots out and dumps you on your bottom. You are tall enough to get into the bottom of your toy bucket and aren't happy till all of your toys are out. A week or two ago we went to the park and you sat in the grass. It was wonderful to watch as you figured out your depth perception. The blades of grass were touching your hand before you expected to come in contact with the ground. Over and over you tested it going a little lower each time till you were able to retrieve your dropped cookie (Yes, I let you eat cookies off the ground). The furrows between your eyebrows melted into the biggest grin and you washed the cookie down with a few pieces of grass. (Yes, I let you eat grass)

You chubby thighs are starting to melt from all your crawling. Your hair is bright red in the sun. You've gotten your first sunburn and it faded into your first suntan. (Momma's skin there!) I found a new birthmark next to your right eye this week. You love avocados and chicken. We somehow skipped baby food and you eat tidbits off our plates like a baby bird. Your little fingers can deliver everything safely to your mouth or deliver the fiercest of pinches. You miss your dogs who are waiting for us in Texas. You whip your head around and make tracks for your Daddee when you hear the front door open. You still sleep with us. You can say "Dad" "DaaayEEE", "Daay-E-nnn" and "Mamma". You can wave bye-bye.

You hold my heart.

Love you always and forever....

Momma