They say that when things are good, life goes fast, slowing to a standstill in the harder times. While my hazy memory can vaguely recall the exhaustion, tears, and frustration that accompanied the first few weeks (ok, months) of Locke's life, I know now that my life is SO good because the whole past six months has happened in the blink of an eye!
When we brought him home from the hospital, we were overwhelmed.  We loved him, but we were overwhelmed.  We had help but we were overwhelmed.  By now you probably get the picture--we were overwhelmed!  We weren't sleeping, we weren't experienced, we weren't particularly well-read on the subject of baby handling.
But gradually, so gradually I don't even know when it happened, we were less frustrated and exhausted and overwhelmed, and more and more fascinated by his amazing feats--finishing four ounces, than six, than eight.  Reaching for a toy.  Sitting unassisted in the bumbo.  Discovering his voice.  And that feeling of "what have we done" turned more and more into, "wow, look what we made!".  And total love for this little person who is ours to teach, guide, mold, and cheer for.
And today he is six months old:


He has whole conversations (in his own language) with us, his mobile, his stuffed animals, really any captive audience. But who wouldn't want to be his captive audience?


He sits alone, has eaten pureed banana, apples, and sweet potatoes, and sleeps 11 hours at night.
He's basically a little angel :)


He is curious, touching everything he can reach (and subsequently putting it into his mouth). He loves music in any form (even out of mine and Jeff's mouths), and cuddles with a soft elephant when he falls asleep:


And now a short poem:
I love your little hands, even as they pluck strands of my hair out of my scalp I love your little nose, even as I wipe it 8,000 times per day I love your little bum, even as I change diapers that should have a biohazard sticker on them I love your little toes, even as they kick the biohazard diapers all over the changing table I love your little mouth, even as it spits up on my third outfit of the day I love your little eyes, even though they open just as I drift off to sleep. I love your little laugh, even though it is usually happening because I did something dumb, like trip, or accidentally shake your bottle without screwing the cap on all the way I love your little cry, even though I have at times turned up my radio in the car to drown it out when we're just a few minutes from home
With all the things that are hard, I wouldn't change even one of them if it meant I couldn't love you!
Being a parent is hard. Being a parent is awesome.
Happy six months, Locke Wilder Norwood!