Dear Baby Clare Bear,
How did you get to be six months old? It seems like just yesterday you were determined to claw your way out of me in less than ten minutes. It's ok, Baby Girl, you're so dang sweet I've already forgiven you for it.
And when I say,so dang sweet, I really mean the sweetest, happiest, most charming baby I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Man, I love you so much it's nearly beyond comprehension.
You're everything your brother wasn't at your age. You're mellow (among a dozen other nicknames, we frequently call you Mellow Yellow), and happy and perfectly content to just sit and watch the rest of us do our thing. You almost never fuss and when you do it's easily remedied with a diaper change, a nap or a snack. Where Conor's eyes were dark brown at six months, yours are bright blue and we can't go out in public without having people comment on how pretty they are.
And you're quiet. In fact, on several occasions I've had a moment of panic thinking I've left you somewhere. I haven't yet but maybe you could squeak every now and then to put my mind at ease.
Oh, you're just everything I could have hoped my little girl would be and I love you so, so, so much I can hardly stand it.
Keep on growing Little Bit, keep on growing.