The first thing I said to Dave this morning was, “our six-month old slept 12 hours last night.” he laughed and said she made it eight – I apparently missed the 3 am siren call! Still, our little kiddo is half a year old. I don’t really understand how that happened. She certainly doesn’t fully look it yet. But here she is. Our medical lockdown is officially over (as arbitrary as that feels!), so we’ll be careful around sick people, but she’s coming out into the world of people.
As I watch her interact with snuggly toys, her new favorite thing, and yes – burp cloths count, I decided the time had come to fill her toy chest, as she might actually be interested in some of these soon. It’s equivalent to pulling out slightly larger clothes; I’m always doubtful there’s a need, but sure enough they’re on her within a week or two. It was really satisfying to think of her playing with crinkle paper, even someday knowing that toys go in the toybox. I don’t want her to grow up too fast, but looking forward feels good after being so fixated on what risks she’s running now.