Five.

 

At five months, Rosemary is getting a tooth or two. (And our normally cheerful girly has been such a little fuss-pants that I have accomplished just about zero of everything in the past six days.)

At five months, Rosemary likes to be naked and to chew on everything. She loves sweet potatoes, but seems to dislike peas. Her cheeks are so chubby I think they actually impair her vision somewhat, and she weighs just under sixteen pounds. She is already wearing some size 12 month clothes. Oh-my-goodness. 

I think her eyes are going to stay a soft sparkley blue, and her bald patches are starting to get new growth of significantly lighter hair.

Her grandpa calls her Raspberry.

My favorite part of the day is getting her out of her crib in the morning. She still sleeps through the night and goes to bed without problems. She loves Sophie the giraffe and she likes to hang out on her tummy.

So far, going gluten-free hasn't seemed to help her too much, but I have noticed that not eating gluten results in extreme weight loss (in me, not her), so we're all happy.

Happy because we choose to be,

happy because there's no good reason not to be.

Happy because five months with Rosemary
is pretty amazing.

Oh, how we roll…

Yesterday morning I informed my daughter that it was high time she start rolling over. Seriously. She did it - ONCE - and then decided she was content being a stationary little log and never tried it ever again. 

So we settled on the living room floor for a little BBC (Baby Boot Camp). For half an hour I helped (forced) her to "practice" rolling from her tummy to her back. I told her of all the wonderful things rolling could accomplish. 

She went stiff as a board and squawked at me like a baby birdy until I finally gave up.

Two hours later she was chilling on her back, contentedly sucking her fingers and cooing. And I was all like, "Whatever, baby. It's your loss." 

I took my eyes off her for one teensy second, only to turn around and find her on her stomach looking at me as if to say,

"That's right, Mom.
This is how I roll."

I promptly flipped her back and watched her do it again,

and again

and again.

Baby girl went from a stationary log to a rolling-over pro in the space of three hours.

Her technique is hilarious (and definitely not how I was trying to teach her). She curls herself up in a little ball and then shoots her legs out like a ninja. She really is her father's daughter.

We have a tiny rolling ninja in the house. I'm pretty sure that once she figures out how to roll from tummy to back, our lives will never be the same.