I never know whether to go by weeks (i.e., four weeks = 1 month) or by the date (May 8th to June 8th = 1 month) for your age. If we go by weeks, you were "six months" about two weeks ago, but you're now 26 weeks and yesterday (November 8th) you hit "six months" via the date.
This is a really boring way to start this post, so I'll move on and quickly…
Basically, Sebastian, you are officially six months and this is how you are sizing up.
To begin, you're over twenty pounds, refusing to fit into anything smaller than size 9 months, and your feet are already suggesting you could be six feet tall by the time you're in eighth grade like your dad.
On October 28th I saw you take your first few coordinated crawls toward the dirty diaper hamper, and by the next day you were not only crawling but pulling yourself up on the book shelves. I thought baby proofing would be a gradual process, but you've made it an overnight necessity. Therefore, dad and I are frantically trying to baby proof the apartment, meaning I just dropped a bunch of money on baby gates and furniture brackets.
Since your balance leaves much to be desired, I'm afraid you've cried more in the last ten days than you have in the last six months due to head bonks, sudden falls from your wobbly stances, pre-couch-cruising moves, and getting stuck under the coffee table, among other things. I have seriously considered finding some sort of baby helmet for you, but I'm not quite sure where to look. Don't worry, if I ever get you into one there will be plenty of documentation for you to look back at when you're sixteen.
You happen to love the laundry basket, by the way. For what reason, I'm not quite sure. Maybe it's because when it's filled with laundry and doesn't tip over, it's the perfect height for you to pull yourself up. It seems to be your favorite game, especially since you look for me every time you do it and seem to be asking for praise (which you usually receive).
You hate the carseat, and I choose not to expand on this since it's a reality we deal with far too frequently.
Have I mentioned that sometimes you make me feel like chopped liver? I can't be too upset though, because your love for your daddy is so darn amazing that I will be chopped liver any day if it means I get to watch you two play together. Though Papa is rarely there when you fall asleep, he's always there when you wake up. After opening your eyes, taking in your surroundings, and locating mom then dad, you immediately choose to try to wake up dad. You roll over and begin batting him with your hands, talking to him, pushing against him. It's obvious you're ready to play and that daddy's the fun parent. Almost every evening when we come home from picking up dad, you two have an intense laugh fest. Daddy gets you to laugh better than anyone. The hysterical baby laughter I hear coming from the living room is so distracting that usually I have to leave dinner preparations to see what's going on.
You love water, and you get excited when you hear either the shower or bath running. If I had the patience to let you, you'd probably stay in the water until you turned into a chubby, wrinkly grape.
You continue to nurse … a lot. We haven't given you any food and you don't seem to mind just yet, although you do love to sample our carbonated water which is always a fun show for us. You also are quite the sleeper. Though you haven't been consistently sleeping for long spells, you practically always need some sort of nap every two hours. Eat. Sleep. Crawl. Fall. Cry. Repeat. Such has been life the past few weeks.
You've already had a few haircuts, the most recent being this morning (I trimmed that Donald Trump looking comb over you were sporting). Furthermore, please don't think me a bad mom for not saving your hair for your non-existent baby book. I'm just not that kind of mommy. I hope you won't mind.
Regarding your temperament, your father and I are guessing you're a sanguine. Is it too early to really tell? Yes, but so far all signs point in that direction. We'll touch back on this in a few years.
We're halfway through our first year together, and it's been amazing. The house is currently a wreck, but I'm a fairly well rested momma so I can't complain. You're healthy, happy, and make everything your father and I are working towards so much easier because you're a constant reminder of what's important.
One day when you read this you'll probably roll your eyes, as will undoubtedly some people reading this now, since, after all, this is just pure baby adoration. But parenthood has been amazing, and I cannot even think about life without you anymore. It's too painful of a thought. So don't go anywhere, and just keep growing and laughing and letting mom and dad love on your because it's really our favorite pastime … though it might not be yours.