She proudly sports 6 teeth. The two bottom front teeth appeared shortly before the 6 month mark (right on cue according to all the baby books) and the top four incisors are simultaneously emerging which began shortly after 7 months. Her vocalizations are in the vein of mamamamama and gagagagaga. She is not a big talker nor a big crier. We can reliably get a smile out of her by holding her upside down.
She is the only girl in her daycare possee of five which likely garners her some extra attention. Without fail she comes home with a single ponytail in her wispy baby hair. She has the advantage of being more mobile than her colleagues at daycare and any bottle or cookie left unattended (or attended only by another baby) will rapidly be swiped by her.
The breast feeding continues apace but it is a distant cousin to the breastfeedings of months past. It is an active pursuit complete with hair pulling (mine), nose twisting (mine), nipple twisting (ouch frickety ouch). She pops off the breast at the slightest distraction and has a look around before plunging back in. The teeth come into play more often than I would like (let's be clear, once is more often than I would like). Because of the struggles we have had with older sister and her pacifier (including an epic battle just this morning) we have not offered a pacifier to the Poopa Loopa and although she somes enviously fingers older sister's, so far it has not been an issue so maybe, perhaps there will be one less battle to fight on that front.
She still has a delicious pot belly and wonderous thighs but her joy in her mobility is steadily wearing the layers of chub away and soon Chumba Wumba will have to be dropped from the roster of many nicknames.
Eight months is wonderful. It is coos and babbles and smiles. It is not completely different from having a family dog. It is, as the cliche goes, all going by far too quickly.
I call this one: "Honey have you seen the baby?"
Making the dishwasher rounds
Breast is best. But beer ain't bad.