Well, we aren't quite there yet...although her new babbles are scarily similar to the drunken ramblings of frat boys... I am starting to feel the pace of time quicken. The first several months moved like screaming, pooping molasses, and I vehemently believed that it would never ever end. I would be trapped inside FOREVER! (I have a knack for the melodramatic).
Anyways, as the days grew longer, things, as everyone had promised, got immeasurably easier and way more fun. Now, I can't believe my little tiny girl is 6 months! Unfreakinbelievable. Everyday she amazes me more, and I know I am going to miss this time later on down the road when she is a tantrum-throwing-fine-I'll-ask-daddy-then two year old.
I'm looking so forward to all of the stages, and teaching her things, and watching her grow accustomed to the world, but sometimes I look at this amazing little 6 month old girl that means more to me than anything, and I can't imagine her changing; I half (maybe 1/3) wish she could stay at this age, this size, exactly as she is. Dinosaur noises, face raking, hair pulling, inordinate amounts of spit and all.
Then I remember sleep, and how nice it will be to do it again.