At six months old she looks less like a bewildered baby and more like a small kid. She talks a lot, using words that sound like a language we don't know. She laughs. Oh my god it's so good. I hoist her up into the air on my knees and she grips my fingers and makes these big capital-D smiles and laughs like this is the funniest thing that ever happened. She laughs at stupid faces, at nonsense words, at falling over. Sometimes she laughs just because someone else is laughing. How does she know to do that? I don't know!
She can't crawl, but she has invented a ridiculous mode of perambulation where you push your face into the ground, brace your legs to make an arch, then flop. It hasn't occurred to her to use her arms for any part of this operation; the face does the heavy lifting. It works: she no longer stays where she's put. I have woken to find her looming over me, jaws wide, two tiny razor-sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight, gigantic baby bobble head moving jerkily around as she searches for something to chew on. It's a little unsettling at 4am.
She likes the baby in the mirror. She's just discovered how great it is to kick the water in the bath. She thinks peas are amazing and carrots are weird. She loves the bright pictures in The Snowy Day, but is also fairly attentive when I want to read Dr Seuss. When she thinks really hard, she looks cross, but isn't, just like Joel does when he's thinking really hard. I like to watch her contemplate things. I wonder about what she decides.
People in work say "How's the baby?" and I can feel myself light up as I think of a hundred things I want to enthuse about. I say "She's amazing :-D" and "She just did this new thing, let me tell you!", and honestly, I do know that other people's babies are not intrinsically interesting, and I try to rate-limit myself, but, dudes, she's so cool. I really enjoy having her. She's a great baby.
Here's a bunch of pictures.
Elizabeth 4-6 months.