Royce 7 and 8 months old

My sweet Roycie Girl is 8 1/2 months old! How on earth, no really, how on earth, did this happen?!? And while we are on the topic how are on earth is summer almost over? Wasn’t it just June? Time, you are such a b-word. You drag when it want you to fly and vanish when I try to grab a hold of you.

 

I am feeling pretty sentimental lately. I think Hayleigh starting her second year of preschool (read last year at home before I throw her to the wolves and lose all control and she inevitably becomes a sassy teenage monster who doesn’t want to cuddle and wears really dark eyeliner and fish net stockings). But that is another blog post all in and of itself.

 

Royce.

 

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She is 8 1/2 months old. She yells (a lot) to participate in conversation. It is really funny because the louder the conversation or book reading gets, the louder she gets to have her voice heard. Then there are also times where she will just sit stone faced and take it all in. She has the excited arm and hand waving down to an art-just like her sister did. She waves to say “hi”, will do a scoot butt dance to music, gives the best slobbery kisses right on the lips whenever I ask and sometimes when I don’t, loves to play peek-a-boo especially with Braxton and will drop toys to say “ahh ooom” and make me pick them up over and over. Daddy still lights up her world every time she sees him. She has started to have separation anxiety which is a whole new world for us as the other two couldn’t care at all whether we were there or not. She butt scoots around to get what she wants and is FINALLY starting to actually somewhat not hate tummy time. She is also, just this past week or so, sleeping 11-12 hours at night without waking up to eat at an ungodly hour or being fed before I go to bed out of fear of the ungodly hour feeding. Hallelujah. And I really mean that. Momma needs her sleep.  Her sideways smile and sweet, laid back disposition are still, and are becoming more and more, the joy of my days.

 

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Hayleigh and Braxton were so alike in the looks, milestones, size, etc for the first year of life. Roycie is our curveball. I don’t mean that in a bad way at all. She isn’t a difficult baby. (Thanks for throwing me that bone, God.) It is just funny how she looks different and grows and eats differently than the other two. And she has hit milestones slightly later than they did. I chalk it up to her laid back, observant personality. And this is fine by me! She can take as long as she wants to crawl. I won’t mind until someone recommends Early Intervention. Then I might stop knocking her down every time she gets up on her hands and knees…kidding. Don’t call CPS.

 

I love her with a fierce love, just like the other two. She has found a special happy place in my heart. Ever since she was born I can not help but smile and sometimes laugh right out loud whenever I look at her. She just brought such light with her when she entered this world and she continues to brighten up even my darkest moments. God gave me such a source of joy in this sweet girl. Literally each on of us in the family is drawn to her, almost magnetically. She will stop a two year old temper tantrum in its tracks. A four year old emotional meltdown will take a back seat to Royce’s silly grin. Peter is a puddle whenever she looks at him and I can be a million miles a way in a land of lists and stress and her sweet face brings me back. What a gift she is to our family!

 

 

I wondered if she would get the short end of the stick being born third, but actually I think she is the luckiest in a lot of ways. From her birth she will always be showered with love from every direction. She has a big brother who is already protective and takes his role of making her laugh until she pukes, or he pukes, or they both puke, very seriously. She has a sister who will teach her all about princesses and pretend and pink and shower her with more love and affection than she can even stand. Not a day, and barely an afternoon, goes by without Royce being hugged and kissed and nuzzled until she has to fight back for oxygen. No matter what she does, even poop her pants, it is gold to them. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and for them to realize her poop really does stink-ya know, because it does. But they still think she is the greatest, cutest, sweetest, best baby ever and will gladly lay next to her and invade her personal space wherever she is-whether she is playing on the ground with toys, supposed to be napping or getting a dirty diaper changed.

 

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They are the best big sister and brother ever, I have to say. Sorry to brag, y’all.

 

 

 

 

Anyway, I am feeling pretty paralyzed by the passage of time these days. I don’t know if I will ever get over it entirely. I am amazed at how God made babies to grow and develop almost over night. I am amazed that God gave me three babies to take care of and love. I am amazed at how wonderful they each are. And I really can’t believe I am starting to plan another round of birthday parties for a (gasp) 1,3 and 5 year old. God help me. And I really mean that. Sometimes I am still in shock that I am a mom and here I am with my baby (or Bee-bah as we affectionately call her thanks to Braxton) is coming up on 9 months old.

 

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I love you so much my sweet Royce Adelyn. God knew what he was doing bringing you into our family when he did. I have loved getting to know you. You have a light and joy about you that draws everyone in and we are hooked. You are perfect for our family and we would never be complete without you. I love and appreciate you more each day. And each day I am thankful for God’s blessing in allowing me to be your Mommy.

 

7 months

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8 months

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