Five Months.

Dear Ellie,

Today, you are five months old, and we're celebrating with a follow-up doctor's appointment from your surgery at birth.  The day of your surgery seems so long ago, I hardly believe we're going to the hospital today for a tummy check when your heart surgery is coming up.

I thought I'd write you a little note for when you get older, and tell you how well you are doing at meeting your milestones, and tell you that I'm so proud of you.  And then I realized that when you're eight or twelve or twenty, you won't care about sitting or rolling over or making sounds.

(This lion is tasty.)

Instead I'll tell you what I love about you.  You are currently laying on your tummy time mat.  I just fed you, it's early in the morning, and I'm having my coffee so I can keep up with you.  You are kicking your little legs all over in your footie pajamas.  You have tiny feet, so the feet on your jammies are way too big and flop around when you kick.  This morning, you woke me up making squeaky noises in your crib around five.  When I got to your room, you smiled at me and then proceeded to get your feet stuck in the slats of the crib.  When I called for Daddy to look on the monitor, you pulled your feet back out.

You make all sorts of funny noises, a combination of vowel sounds, grunting, and sometimes snorting.  Your laugh makes everyone nearby happy.  When you are hurt, your little wail is heartbreaking.  You've been putting everything in your mouth lately.

(I will catch this lion, and then I will show him I am boss.)

Yesterday at lunch, you were holding onto your giraffe teether for dear life.  Every time you dropped it into your baby carrier, you would scream, once, at the top of your lungs.  I'd hand you the giraffe, and you'd bite, your eyes dancing.  Then you'd lose your grip and scream again.

Ellie, you are a people person.   You tolerate strangers in the grocery store commenting on your cute feet, but when our friends come over, you're in heaven.  When we handed you to Libbie to babysit, you jumped out of my arms and into hers.  You are happiest with Mommy and Daddy, but you love to meet new people.

(Relaxing in the crib.)

You love the pool, and we might need to take you to the indoor pool this winter.  People always ask if you're in the pool for the first time, maybe because you're so little.  We always laugh and tell them you're a regular.  Daddy holds you in the water and you smile and giggle.  I think swimming will be your sport, which is unfortunate, because I can't provide a lot of help.  Ask Daddy.

The pool isn't the only water you love.  I worried about the rain on our run yesterday, so I ran laps around the block.  In case you were freaked out by the water dropping from the sky, I figured I could cut my workout short.  I was miserable and soggy.  You were having a blast, smiling, "talking."  I guess I'll never have bad weather as an excuse not to take you for a run, since you handled the rain better than Mommy.

(Daddy thinks you look like a flapper in this bow.  I think you look cute.)

When you get fussy, you like Daddy to sing you "My Funny Valentine."  (That happens to be the song we danced to at our wedding.)  When you are sleepy, "Fly Me to the Moon" is your song of choice.  Daddy has to sing those, because he has a good voice.  If he's out of town and Mommy tries, no dice.  When Daddy's not home, we listen to the "Glee" station on Pandora.

(Just layin' around.)

Eleanor Claire, your name fits you perfectly.  You are our bright ray of light, even on rainy days.  Happy five month birthday!

Love, Mommy