Six Months

A very merry half-birthday to you, my dear Timothy. These last six months of knowing you have filled me with overwhelming joy for the riches of God's blessings. It's hard work, having you. It takes me to the end of myself. But I'm pretty sure that's a good thing.

You are so much like your sister. You look like her, laugh like her, squirm like her, and fight sleep like her. You have your differences too. You are huge. I know I say this every month, but really, are your bones made of lead? And you are strong. It constantly amazes me that I have a good hundred pounds on you and yet have a really hard time keeping hold of you. As much as your mommy hates it, you will probably be a football player.

You are grabbing everything: hair, neck flesh, ears, glasses, plates, and more. When you want something, there is really no keeping you from getting hold of it. It's really pretty exhausting. You just started scooting yourself all over the place. I don't think I've ever seen a more determined child. I'm sure the twos will be fun.

Naptime is still a bit of a challenge. I have a hard time getting you to go to sleep because you'd much rather play peek-a-boo from behind the bumper pad. And I would much rather play peek-a-boo and be giggled at than make you go to sleep. Your delight at seeing me gives me so much joy.

We just started you on solid food yesterday. Man, were you ready. You were in your walker while we ate our dinner. Every time I lifted the fork to my mouth, you screamed at me. I immediately got out the rice cereal. You were so enthusiastic, you refused to wait for me to put the spoon in your mouth. You nearly grabbed it out of my hand. Somehow, I don't think you are going to be getting smaller any time soon. You make me laugh.


Your sweet coos, giggles and smiles add so much joy to my life. I love you, and I'm looking forward to watching you grow. May God grant me grace to parent you well, show you grace, and point you to Jesus.

I love you, Tim-Tim.

Mama