a six month retrospective - month five

Sometimes I get this weird out-of-body feeling when I hear my name. Like it's me, but it's not really me, like I exist outside of myself. Sometimes when I look at Evey and she locks eyes with me I get the same feeling. Like for a split second we know each perfectly and can understand each other. Sometimes I think about when she and her future siblings grow up about what they'll remember about me as their young mother and what they'll think about when they see pictures of us. I think about Evey's siblings a lot. I want her to know that the only reason we want to have more kids is because she is such a good one herself. So when she gets upset with her younger siblings, she should know that it's her fault they're even around.


But I don't know if I want Evey to know this...we didn't get her a single thing for her first Christmas. Not one toy, not one special outfit. Instead we ate a bunch of food and stayed in our pajamas all day and cuddled with her on the couch. We knew she wouldn't care about not having any gifts. At 5 months old she was really just starting to get into toys anyway. She put everything in her mouth and growled and laughed. She made the funniest sounds (she was really good with her "O" ones).


Evey was getting better at imitating us when we made certain noises. When we'd repeat them back again to her, she'd grin and you could almost see the inner workings of brain trying to figure it all out. She'd be splashing around in her baby tub and we'd be saying, "Ooh" and "Boo" and "Boogly boogly" over and over, and then the light would go off and she would say, "Ooooooh," and naturally we'd be overcome with joy. If only everyone could get as excited about the little things. If only we could always love bath time and snuggle time. If only Christmas could always mean just some waffle sticks and zipper skin oranges and pj's and movies all day. If only life could always stay simple and sweet like it does with a 5 month old.