I haven’t been this thrilled with Kiwi getting older since, well, she was born.
Six months marks a watershed in her short life.
Sweet, sweet sleep
Most important in her development, of course, was the sleep training. Kiwi transformed from a sleep-shunning infant who never slept longer than two hours at a time to a Ferber-ized champ who puts herself to sleep (no more bouncing!!) and snoozes for up to six hours at a go.
Getting more sleep means I feel less like a hollowed out shell of myself—and means I get to enjoy this dumpling much, much more.
Kiwi is happier getting more sleep, too. She wakes up babbling to herself and playing with her toes. And when she sees me, a she breaks into a giant grin. Sometimes she grabs my cheeks and pulls my face to hers, as if she’s saying, “It’s so good to see you!”
She has hit some other milestones, too. She ate her first foods. She’s still not too sure about this whole solids thing, but she does love to gnaw on carrots, nature’s teething toys.
And she has mastered sitting up. She still tips over (the other day she fell onto Peeper, who said, “Don’t smoosh me!”) but overall manages to stay upright. She looks quite proud of herself.
The higher vantage point also allows her a better view of everything that’s going on in the house. She watches Peeper build magnet towers on the fridge, Finn chase a tennis ball and Nana whip up dinner. I imagine all that input building new connections within her brain. She’s getting smarter and smarter.
Kiwi loves looking at the mirror on her changing pad but hates getting dressed. She laughs at leg massages and nibble-tickles. She kicks her legs in excitement when we go on walks outside. She plays with Sophie and rattles but would rather you pass her the wipes package, please: It makes such a satisfying sound when she crumples it!
Bond of sisterhood
My favorite part of her recent changes, though, is that she and Peeper are growing closer. Sure, Peeper still gets frustrated when her little sister pulls her hair or tips over her milk, but those annoyances are overshadowed by their mutual adoration.
When I put Kiwi to bed, I take her around to everyone to say goodnight. When it’s Peeper’s turn, she hugs Kiwi, plants a kiss on her face, pats her head and says, “Good night, Kiwi. Sweet dreams.”
And just the other day, Peeper wrapped her arms around Kiwi and said, “I love you”—completely unprompted.
Kiwi can’t talk yet, of course—that first is months away. But I can understand what she’s telling Peeper. Her dimpled smile, outstretched arms and jiggling legs are unmistakable. They say, “I love you, too.”