This Is My Baby, Whom I Adore

Rough night last night. On an ill-advised attempt to check in on the baby about 11:30 p.m., she ambushed me and we had a hard time getting her back to sleep. It was after 1 a.m. before she fell back to sleep. Note to self: If you hear any movement on monitor, don't go in to check right away. I ended up picking her up for a while, which is taboo according to Ferber but she was beside herself. Then I just gave up, put her back in the crib and crawled exhaused back to bed. She woke this morning (and the last few mornings) around 5:30 a.m. and nursed and snuggled until after 8 a.m. none the worse for wear. When you step back and look at the big picture, she's still doing very well. And while I was holding her and rocking her last night, the thought kept coming back to me, "This is my little baby, whom I adore; I don't mind holding her and snuggling with her." And I mean it.

Slowly but surely I've been working on her room and yesterday Brigid was able to use her room like a giant playpen. She crawled around and played happily for quite a while. When Margaret and Patrica came home, they went in with her and played for a while, too. Little by little her room is coming around. When I get the books off the bottom shelves in there, I'll feel even better about letting her crawl around.

I think Brigid has begun saying real words but they get lost in some of the babble. She's saying "Hi," I think; and she definitely says Dah Dah in relation to her Daddy. There are a few other things in there as well, and I'll have to listen more carefully because she's babbling a lot more now. I think we're on the cusp of some real developmental changes. It's hard to believe, but my little baby, whom I adore, will be 10 months old on Friday, the 12th. Ten months! Time has gotten away from me. I'm afraid to blink, but sometimes you have to blink to clear away the tears.