Seven Months in Spring

 Let's just get the bow (the size of an elephant) in the room out of the way.  You see, sometimes, after a week of sickness and sneezes and sopping skies, the sun shines and the blooms burst and a bow much larger than one's head is the only option.

 This baby, who, let's not fail to mention looks remarkably like myself in these photos, is now seven months old.  As in, officially closer to one than zero.  As in, hardly a baby at all.  As in, I may curl up a ball and cry myself to sleep.

 This seventh month marked many a milestone.  Besides getting more adorable than one person can manage (I mean, she grabs her dad's face with both hands and melts right into him), she got sick, and grew a tooth, and ate everything in site.

 And I mean, everything.  From grass to green beans.  Bread to bananas.  Rice to raspberries.  It's a bit ridiculous, and probably highly inappropriate, but one simply does not say no to that face.

 As proof of almost all of the above, I spy a tooth and a crusty nose.  Also a scratchy face, and I promise she swallowed at least three blossoms before I horribly removed them from her grasp.  See what I mean about saying no to her....

 And when she mutters "dadadadadadadada" all day long, and kicks wildly when she wakes and laughs straight out of her belly, my heart skips a beat and I know I am the luckiest girl in the world.