In hindsight, Jesse's first year of life and my first year of motherhood crept along at a turtle's pace. I actually blogged monthly about my son, which means two things: I was aware of each passing month, and I associated those months with the age of my son. I commend my former diligence, realizing today that half a year has passed since Jesse's B.C birthday. I regret this fact.
I regret not continuing to document those 6 post birthday months because I think he has formed into a little person right under my nose, and I have failed to note the subtle changes that have created an altogether new person than the Jesse of 6 months ago. Some of you may be thinking, "Big whoop Ree. It's 6 months". You're probably right. It's not like I'll have this kind of stamina with the rest of my kids some day. But, this is the FIRST, and I think I may use these posts as a reference/guide for this upcoming December, in which case, the colour commentary is both amusing and helpful. Enough justification.
Update time.
My son is a monster. A very adorable, animated, independent, thrill seeking gremlin. Not a week passes when he is not nurturing one, if not multiple types of head wound. Last week this included two fat lips and a mouth full of blood and gravel after taking his toy quad straight off the stairs of the tennis court-- (* and it's worthy to note that this was absolutely premeditated) The morning of this incident he had already sustained his first injury of the day, having conveniently outmaneuvered me only to smoke the corner of the coffee table. Of all days to have an OB visit. I've decided the energy exerted in explaining to people I'm not abusive just isn't worth it.
"Oh, he was on a tricycle, but his feet didn't touch and that slash across his neck is because he scraped it against a metal faucet while he was falling...."
"Oh, he thought he could stand on my mesh hamper on the tile floor... and then he tried jumping..."
"Oh, he just didn't want to let go of his toy,  so he ended up dragging behind it on the concrete. Yes.. that's why he has no skin on his nose..."
" Oh, he just walked off the edge of the retaining wall and landed on a rock. Yes, head first."
" A chair fell on him..."

Not surprsingly, he can now say with clarity the words "Ow" and "Uh Oh", with complete understanding. In the words department, he is doing well. He is definitely in the imitation phase of his young life, and repeats a lot of my phrases. This does not always bode well for me, but I am happy in his progress with syllables.

He has a few self-taught tricks, and although we are curious about their origin, we enjoy the entertainment. For one, he clucks at dogs. Soother in or out, it doesn't matter, the same sound comes out, and it's funny.
He folds his hands for prayer, which doesn't seem that curious, but we never taught him that. What's amusing is that if I forget to pray with him and start spooning food in his mouth, he'll stop me by simply folding his hands and blinking at me.
He kisses the girl in "Ten little fingers and ten little toes". He chooses the book for that very reason and has his lips puckered well before the girl shows up.
He yells 'go' while pumping his arm when he wants something out of his way-- mostly my dog Sam. When I tell him to be nice, he pulls out his soother and gives Sam a kiss.

His morning routine is the real kicker. He's elaborated the thing to the point of excess. 5:45 am he's up and it can't be helped. Trust me, we've tried.  Before he's ready to leave his bed, he will hand me his blanket. Then he bends down and looks around for his second blanket. That safely in my grasp, he will bend down again to find his soother. Not the one in his mouth, but the one he wants to hold  until he gets his sippy cup. Now we are ready for our trip to the fridge. I've tried to cut out this step, but the steps are vital, and if one is altered, Jesse's inner monster emerges, and nobody is ready for that before 6 am. I cave. He hands me both soothers, takes his milk, and points me to the T.V. Not happening. I now win this battle, and he comes back to bed with me and begins to poke James, who is still sleeping. For some reason he has to poke both our noses, like it's a test that we are really his parents. Once that's done, he settles in and sucks back his bottle. This is more or less the beginning of every morning with Jesse.
I'm tired just thinking about it, and realize that I am quite happy that I still have approx. 3 more months until   Jesse meets his new little brother or sister :)

I hope to keep this regular, because I realize I have barely scratched the surface on our past 6 months--having skipped over our 65 hour road trip back home. But that merits a blog of its own :) Until then.