magnetic
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Maggie is six months old today. And it occurs to me with the usual, heartbeat-like thud of maternal guilt, that I don't devote anything like as much blog to chronicling her development as I did, gurgle by gurgle, with her sister. Am not even going to attempt to account for this, either, but here to mark the occasion are six things about my little Maggie Moo:
- She is still very much a fan of the boobie. Although she gets a bottle of Evil Formula™ at night because otherwise she wakes several times for feeds and I can't be doing with that. She's a hungry wee thing: we started her on baby mush at four and a bit months and she soon had us trained to serve her three solid feeds a day. She eats pretty much anything you offer her, too, making little mu-mu-mu noises of appreciation as you shovel it into her mouth, and wailing indignantly if you show signs of slowing down or stopping.
- She has slept through for the past, ooh, four nights now. But I don't think it means much.
- The nearly black hair she was born with has been pushed out by a second growth of chestnut-brown stuff that looks quite red in the sunshine. Her eyes settled at around three months on a clear, bright blue that looks tinged with violet in some lights, turquoise in others.
- We finally agreed on a name for her mere days before she was born. Among others we considered were: Rowan (but we didn't want kids with identical initials, and wanted her to have the same middle name – Williams – as her sister and me); Niamh (gorgeous but she wouldn't have thanked us for having to spend her entire life correcting spelling and pronunciation); and Prudence (don't ask). Eventually I came up with Margaret because of its solemn loveliness and because it abbreviates wonderfully, leaving her with a choice of names for later life. And of course it's a family name: as soon as we announced it, we realised how many Margarets there were in all branches of the whanau, including a great grandmother and a great great aunt. And incidentally our midwife was Margaret.
- A happy little thing, she is somewhat more reserved and Mummy-centric than her extroverted older sister was, even at this age. When passersby stop to fuss and to try to coax a smile out of her, she makes them work for it, gazing at them appraisingly with huge, unblinking eyes
- She discovered her feet while we were in Auckland at the beginning of October, and is still utterly fascinated with them, swinging her legs up to stuff both feet in her mouth at once before grinning at you around a mouthful of toes.
Happy half-birthday, my wee Magnum Opus! And happy whole birthday, her first, to her wee friend Ada.
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