It dawned on me very suddenly that Penelope is six months old already. Like, what the hell happened? I remember when I had Olivia and I was up to my neck in post-partum depression, she promised me that the first six months are the hardest. Now in my wisdom (snicker), I'd have to say the first four months are the hardest. The last two have been kind of gravy, really.
We had to put her beloved baby swing away, she's gotten much too long and too heavy for it. Which is a total bummer because she LOVED her swing. She really enjoyed being able to lay down and swing away. I am so disappointed I haven't found something similar for babies 25 pounds and up because she really loved that thing. Afternoons should be a total delight now. Yikes. But in all seriousness, I got teary putting the baby swing away. I had already given the baby clothes she's outgrown to someone else and I did it knowing it would help someone but in my gut I felt sick about it. What if? What if I wanted another one. It's the worst feeling in the world, this indecisiveness. Perhaps a post for another day.
But today... today I snuggle my girl because she truly is one of the best decisions I have ever made.