I’m not really prepared to be the mother of a 7 month old. How did my baby get this old?! I don’t know why I never really got past 6 months in my head, but for some reason it never occurred to me time would keep going. I think it’s because 6 months was supposed to be our big milestone, the end of the exclusive breastfeeding and the moment when I no longer had to be Baby Evan’s only source of food. SURPRISE. Motherhood lesson #1: babies don’t give a crap about what you want. Really though, I don’t mind that much. He’s old enough now that he has to be really really REALLY hungry before he starts screaming, so I’m able to get some baby free time while E gets daddy time. I even missed bedtime last night so I could attend the mom’s knitting group at Papoose and made my first baby washcloth. Or at least I WILL have made my first baby washcloth when someone shows me how to finish it. I don’t think it will work very well with a knitting needle stuck to one side.

As for milestones…we have achieved forward momentum. It’s not really crawling, since he still hasn’t figured out how to get his knees under him while in motion (although he can get up on all fours while stationary and rock back and forth as if he’s trying to will his body forward). No, Baby Evan gets around by sort of half dragging half kicking his way across the floor, in a way that could only be described as “desperate gun shot victim crawls for safety” or “injured animal attempts escape”. Although I doubt either of those would move at the incredible speed Baby Evan can reach. There’s this corner of the kitchen where he always pauses and looks back, as if daring me to remember closing the baby gate, right before he disappears towards the HALLWAY OF DOOM, which holds the dog food, a bathroom and the basement stairs. In the 7 month old mind, all those things should be explored with one’s mouth. Unfortunately, the gates can’t do anything about his amazing ability to find the ONE piece of paper or bottle cap or dog kibble or dust bunny on a floor covered in baby toys and immediately try to eat it. We should send the babies to Afghanistan and say “Whatever you do, DON’T put Bin Laden in your mouth.” BOOM! Problem solved.

Our new nighttime routine is going…well, not really WELL, but better than I expected. More nights than not we make it past midnight before a feeding and until 4 or 5 am before the only way to get any more sleep is bringing him to bed with me. I’m hoping we get down to one early morning feeding followed by a couple extra hours of sleep by 9 months, so I’ve started checking stuff off Dr. Sears’ causes of nighttime waking list. We bought a space heater to keep the nursery warm (it’s now the most comfortable room in the house). We dress the baby in a cotton onesie before putting on his cozy jammies so they won’t itch. We set up the humidifier to help with his congestion. We play the Baby Go To Sleep cd on repeat all night. Even the worst insomniac in the world would fall asleep in that room, and yet it’s not quite good enough for my darling babycakes. The GIANT GLARING PROBLEM with this plan is that all the eating Baby Evan was doing at night now happens during the day. And I think his top teeth are coming through. So lets just say our days are  mostly spent topless.

As fast as the last 7 months have gone, the next couple are going to just fly by. We’re going to Pennsylvania to be godparents to my best friend’s baby next weekend, the weekend after that we’re going to Virginia (shh!! it’s a surprise party for my grandmother!), then it’s Thanksgiving. We don’t know yet how our holidays are going to play out or where we’ll be but I am ridiculously excited for Baby Evan’s first Christmas. The excitement on his face when he realizes all that wrapping paper those presents are for him to eat to play with is going to be fantastic.

For your viewing pleasure, a baby escape. He made it from the carpet to that spot in the time it took me to turn on the camera. If you listen carefully you can hear his cackle of laughter as he disappears:

Last night at dinner with my parents, my dad asked if he could give Baby Evan a french fry. “Sure, whatever” I said, “It’s not like he eats anything anyways.”

And then the little jerk stuck the fry in his mouth, chewed it up and smiled. MY BABY’S FIRST FOOD WAS A FRENCH FRY.

After all the natural, locally grown, organic, homemade, steamed, pureed fruits and vegetables I painstakingly chose and patiently offered, my child chose a DAMN FRENCH FRY. I suppose it shouldn’t come as too much of a shock, considering the sheer volume of fries I ate during my pregnancy, but I was really hoping we could start with avocado or banana or Cheerios or ANYTHING WITH NUTRITIONAL VALUE.

For the record, we’re calling it “potato” at breastfeeding group.

Baby Evan has stopped rolling or spinning in circles all the time and has started trying to crawl. When I saw him push up on his honest to God hands and knees the other day, I full on gasped and covered my mouth. Quick, to the fainting couch! Bring me my smelling salts! My stars, my child is growing up so fast! I know I should be happy he’s developing right on schedule and be exited for his new skills but it’s hard not to miss the lump that just lay around looking cute instead of rolling under the bookcase and trying to eat the power cords. Crawling means he can escape, especially when I’m trying to do funny stuff to take pictures of him. I’ll miss this:

Amazon was having a sale on babies, but the shipping costs were outrageous.

Peek a boo! But I'm still trapped in this basket. For now mwahahahahaha!

If you think I'm going to sit still and let you dress me like this once I can crawl away you are sorely mistaken.

Happy Birthday Evan Richard Davis III! (Someday, that is going to look totally ridiculous on a cake.

It’s official – I no longer have a newborn. Newborns lie around like lumps.  They’re floppy and delicate and wear little hats and tiny diapers. You watch them every second they’re awake hoping they’ll smile, but when they do it’s accompanied by a full diaper. You have to feed newborns as soon as they start acting hungry no matter where or when. Newborns cry for no reason, sleep at odd hours and are easily carried around in a bucket car seat, mostly unaware of their surroundings.

Baby Evan is not newly born. He rolls and scoots and is only a week or two away from crawling. He loves being tossed in the air or spinning in circles or bouncing on your knee. He pulls all those adorable hats I bought him off his head and shoves them in his mouth. He’s graduated from “swaddler” diapers to “cruisers”. He cries because he is hungry or tired or hurt or, more likely, trapped under a piece of furniture. He laughs at the dog and funny sounds and when you tickle him. Baby Evan goes to bed at 8:30 pm and takes two naps during the day. He rides in big kid car seat that stays in the car and loves going new places and charming everyone he meets. In public, he’s too interested in his surroundings to sit still and have a snack, and besides, he has two whole teeth now and that practically makes him an adult.

Our 6 month doctor’s appointment is on Friday, and I’ll get his official weight (ELEPHANT), length (FOOTBALL FIELD) and head size (SUN) then, but for now here’s how he’s meeting his milestones from BabyCenter:

Mastered Skills (most kids can do):

• Turns toward sounds and voices – Definitely. He especially loves music or singing, even if it’s on tv.
• Imitates sounds – I’ve heard “Ma” and “Da” and lots of other “almost words” but mostly he just babbles. Or screeches.
• Rolls over in both directions – Rolls, plus he can spin in a circle and push up with straight arms.

Emerging Skills (half of kids can do):

• Is ready for solid foods – Ugh, solids. I bought some baby oatmeal that didn’t need to be cooked and mixed it with breastmilk but he made faces and gagged. He was slightly more interested in the baby applesauce (I definitely thought it tasted better than the cold oatmeal)(The dog, on the other hand, practically ate the baby’s face off trying to lick up all the oatmeal) but still didn’t get much in his actual mouth. I guess we’ll wait another couple weeks before trying again.
• Sits without support – Mostly. He does a really great job…right up until you look away. Then he falls on his face. I think he’s doing it on purpose.
• Mouths objects – What DOESN’T he mouth? Favorites include: remote controls, paper, and my feet, with or without shoes on.
• Passes objects from hand to hand – All the time, although mostly reaches with his right. No southpaws in this family.

Advanced Skills (a few kids can do):

• Lunges forward or starts crawling – Not on the floor but he can lunge from your arms. Which is why I tie him to me with the mai tei instead of trying to hold him in public.
• Jabbers or combines syllables – No, unless “bppppppffffftttt aaaayyyyyeeeeeiiiiiiii” counts.
• Drags objects toward himself – Yes. Putting a bottle of ketchup almost out of his reach is a great way to distract him long enough to eat half your meal at a restaurant

So it looks like we’re right on track to a normal child. At least until he starts talking and his first words are “your mom”. Or maybe “Legendary!” I might actually encourage that one.

Contamination contained. We set up a perimeter. No babies will be escaping from this facility. Now our evil plans can begin mwahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa!

Since rolling has quickly turned into scooting in circles and the occasional attempt to push up on his knees we decided it was time to get started on the baby-proofing. Of course, just like EVERYTHING ELSE about parenthood, you can only be prepared for half of it. The things you thought you absolutely had to have (ahem BUMBO SEAT) were totally unnecessary and you end up running through the street at 11:00 pm throwing money at anyone who promises to get you the stuff you neeeeeeeed.

The real victims of the baby proofing are our pets. The stupid evil cat can’t figure out how to get through the gate (hint: YOU JUST WALK THROUGH IT YOU’RE A CAT). The dog can no longer run to the front door and greet every single visitor we have OMG TRAGIC. And the stupid nice cat has already decided she’d prefer if I opened it FOR her so she sits and meows. Odds are we’re going to have at least one poop on the floor incident before we reach acceptance. Although since the gate is between the couch and the bathroom, I wouldn’t rule E out of that race. Kidding honey!