At 6 months

This is what 6 months looks like. Rolls of fat, chubby thighs, sitting up, babbling, and putting everything, and I do mean everything, in her mouth. Sprout at this age had delicate features, a pointed chin, a button nose, and over-large ears that she still hasn’t grown into. If I played the word association game, the word elfin brought me right to Sprout. But say Pudge’s name, and I think of round. Round cheeks, a round belly that pokes out over her diaper.

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I have these small little laughing Buddha statues. And he is all round belly, and big smile in every statue. From the moment I opened the box, I thought of Pudge, with her big toothless grin, and that belly, pushing against her onesies, and hanging over diaper. She is unapologetically chubby, perfectly content her roundness, and happy with her life. (As long as she isn’t hungry.) I’ve learned more about body positivity in the past few months, as she started to go from tiny newborn to pudgy baby, than I have my entire life time.

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She’s not too good at sleeping yet, she wants to get up after bedtime and play for a few minutes, and then go back to bed. I try to be in the moment during those times, especially once Sprout has gone to bed. I try to imprint the weight of her head on my shoulder, the squeals of laughter, the baby talk, to memory. The dark circles under my eyes, testament to the amount of sleep I’m not getting, are slowly making their way down my face. By the time the girls are in college, I am convinced my face will be nothing but puffy, dark circles.


But these moments will pass quickly. It feels like yesterday I was gingerly getting out of the car, and carefully unbuckling a tiny newborn from her seat. In reality, half a year has gone by.



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