|you can sort of see the first tooth in this photo. this was a few days ago and it's emerged a bit more now.|
Tessa Jean is 8 months old today. Right now I hear her in the kitchen clanking the ceramic dog bowls against the tile floor and squealing, "Daaaaa!" That's a good thing. When it gets suddenly quiet, my heart stops beating and I barrel into whatever room she's in to make sure she's not outsmarted my childproofing efforts. Her personality is out. It's too soon to tell some details--like whether or not she's particularly girly or a tomboy--but she is extraordinarily independent and very social. Her first word, officially, is "hi." She spies strangers in the grocery store, waves an arm wildly and says, very happily, either "hey" or "hi." She doesn't laugh very much but she's almost always beaming. A wide smile that makes me laugh out loud even if she's just spat her made-from-scratch butternut squash right in my face. Tess will let anyone hold her, kiss her, cuddle her. She likes me well enough, but she's not overly attached to either me or Nekos, which is sort of hurtful but mostly just convenient. She's used to the love coming from all different directions because she stays at her grandma's house overnight once or twice a week. She won't eat anything that's not pureed into oblivion, and even that stuff doesn't always go over well. (See peas above.) Even bananas have to go into the blender. I've been amazed lately at the items I'll allow her to put into her mouth just to keep her from crying. Filthy keys, my wallet, yesterday even a mop handle--whatever's handy.