Nola recently discovered her toes and they've quickly become her favorite toy. She's also reaching out and grabbing anything and everything (and putting it in her mouth whenever possible.) She can *almost* sit up unsupported but still tends to dive head-first when she's interested in something. Her latest accomplishment is being able to take her pacifier out of her mouth AND put it back in most of the time. I'm so proud.
She'll be eight months old (EIGHT MONTHS!) next week. I am having a hard time believing this. She's just a few ounces away from weighing 15 pounds. At what point does it become impolite to discuss a gal's weight in a public forum? I think we're not far from it.
While visiting a friend of mine and her new adorable baby boy in the hospital last week, I took Nola up to the NICU to say hello to the nurses and staff there. (Side-note: I am shocked that I did not have a post-traumatic-stress-induced panic attack.) They all went nuts cooing over her and remembered us very well. Around last Christmas, Phil and I ordered several hardcover photo books of Nola's first 4 months to give as gifts to the family. The book does a pretty good job of telling the story of her scary NICU days to her time at home, healthy and beautiful, during the holidays. We had a few extra copies so I gave one to the NICU staff and mentioned that they were welcome to share it with parents that are having hard time. I honestly feel that if I had had a visual of what those months were going to be like and that it could have a happy ending - it would have helped me quite a bit.
We are so very fortunate.