Lucille Jones turned 8 months old the past week. She's just the dearest baby, ever. She gets such pleasure out of almost everything she encounters, and it's just such a delight for us all.
She's become so much more active. The crawling is so quick these days, as is the pulling herself up to couches and tables. She's not a big fan of sitting still in the carseat now, but that all changes when her sister is in the backseat with her. She's almost turned sideways, just staring at Penny. She laughs at her constantly, and when Penny hears her fussing she tells "Woo-Woo" that "It's ok, we're almost home". It makes my heart soar.
Lulu loves the garden but for a girl that's not a huge fan of solid foods, everything in the garden goes in her mouth! We have to watch her constantly and she always gives us a cheeky smile when we ask her if she ate something.
She's exploring every inch of our house, and she absolutely won't be left in a room alone. There's immediate crying and then crawling right up to your legs for a pick-up. Lulu just isn't missing out on anything, if she can help it!
This has been the first month where I can see the one year mark in our sights. With mobility, Lulu has lost her intense dependence on us for stimulation. She can move around rooms, find things to explore, and is busy figuring things out for herself. Of course, we're constantly supervising.
With so much of the anxiety I had with my first baby gone, I've enjoyed Lulu so, so much thus far. I can revel in her forward striving. I'm charmed by her attachments, and unconcerned with her frustrations. I know (most of the time I know, I mean, I still hope) that she'll continue to enjoy life. I can anticipate the toddler she will become, and I can't wait to meet that little person. And yet, I can still mourn that each day she's less of a baby because wow, has she been the cutest, cuddliest, friendliest baby we could have ever hoped to have in our lives.