Five months.

Dear Butternut,

Your momma's a slacker. Oops. I'm only a week late in writing this letter, so it could be worse, eh? You could be thirteen and laying a guilt trip on me for never making a baby book for you, which, um, I haven't gotten around to yet either. Anyway.

Month five was another big month for you. We officially unswaddled you because you started rolling back to belly in your sleep. And boy, did it tick you off to wake up on your belly without your arms free to turn yourself back over. Your father and I were frankly terrified that your sleep routine would totally degenerate...and that fear was somewhat well founded, as your nap routine went out the window. But you still sleep well enough at night, at least once we finally get you asleep.

You do roll, but only a few times a week. You are much more interested in doing your "baby crunches" because you want to sit up so badly. We practice sitting up every day, and you love it. You have even "tripoded" a couple of times and impressed the pediatrician because that's a six-month skill. Way to go, my little overachiever!

There's a spoon in this month's photo because it was the month of starting solids. One night shortly after you turned four months, your father announced he was bored and started feeding you baby oatmeal. Yup. This is our parenting philosophy. Have fun with that for the next couple decades.

We call you our baby bird when you're eating solids because you open up your moth for more as soon as the spoon gets within several inches. We are just sticking with oatmeal for now, but soon we will be branching out into pears, poultry, and squash. You are beginning to master putting things in your mouth, so we are looking forward to doing finger foods eventually as well.

We skipped the solid food when we went to New England for a week. Yes, your very first plane and train trips - we flew to Boston where you met your Grandpa Slotnick and Auntie Nicole and their family, and then we took a train to Maine for a reunion with your Nana's family. You were such a trooper, even though you were utterly exhausted every day due to lack of naps. And of course, everyone thought you were made of awesome.

We sing more lullabies now that you're having a harder time falling asleep, and you just stare at me in fascination. You smile little smiles, and I try so hard to not smile back so you know it's naptime and not playtime. But I am not good at playing it straight-faced, so you know I'm happy you're happy.

Speaking of that, you are such a joy. I just don't know how else to explain it. We marvel at what a happy baby you are. One of my greatest wishes for you is that you retain your ability to smile and laugh at the life's littlest joys.

That's it, Stinky McStinkerson. Momma loves you.

Love,

That Lady Whose Hair You Like to Pull