If you ask ten moms, at least nine would likely tell you about how the first year of life with a new baby goes by so fast. The time does fly by, or at least it appears to based on the rapid development that occurs in that first year. Babies change so quickly: from tiny, helpless, red-faced lumps to actual people with their own interests and personality quirks, able to interact with you and make their needs known without always resorting to crying.

I’m sitting here a little stunned that today marks six months since I gave birth to Mira. Half a year. Where has that time gone? It didn’t go by so fast with Cordy, I think. I remember each month and each milestone slowly drifting by at a leisurely pace. Mira’s first six months have resembled a high-speed chase – blink and you’ll miss it. I’m sure some of it has to do with being the second child, and my not having as much time to devote to only her.

I’m proud that we’ve made it six months with practically no formula. While breastfeeding didn’t work with Cordy, I’m thrilled that Mira’s growth so far has been nourished by something I can provide. (Besides, we’re saving gobs of money by not buying formula!) She’s losing interest already, though, and weaning may be coming sooner rather than later. But for now we’ll keep going as long as she wants to.

I wanted to wait until this time marker to begin solid foods, but like many children, Mira made sure not to follow the plan I had for her. From nearly her first day she was interested in my food, eventually working up the dexterity and coordination to attempt stealing food from my plate. With the speed of a slight of hand artist, she slapped her hands down into my three bean salad at Thanksgiving and came up with two fistfuls of green beans. Since we started solids, she’s been a champion eater – I’m not sure there is a bottom to that stomach.

The same can’t be said for sleep, though. Like Cordy, she seems to have inherited some inability to sleep from her father. It has to be his fault, because no child who takes after me would disrespect sleep like this. I think I now understand the popularity of those “Party in my crib – 2am” onesies that Target sells. Even as I write this she is next to me, rubbing her eyes furiously and fussing because she refuses to take a nap. She never wakes up happy – almost as soon as her eyes pop open, she lets out an enormous wail, announcing her cranky awakeness to the world.

(but she’ll sleep for her Uncle Adam)

Bits of her personality are really shining through now. The feeling of bouncing in the Jumperoo is one of her favorite things, and she giggles when we spin her around or “fly” her through the air. She hates being put down, and complains if she thinks you’re not giving her your entire attention. (Diva)

At home, she is a grumpy monster, bored with only me to look at all day. In public, where there are new people and new things to look at, everyone coos at her and remarks on what a charming, sweet baby she is. She smiles, perks up, and I swear she performs when you applaud her – future actress, thriving on the applause, perhaps?

She will not take a pacifier, no matter how much I beg her to at times. The television also holds little interest for her – she will glance at it on occasion, but no amount of Baby Einstein or Noggin can convince her that it’s OK for mommy to go to the bathroom without her. When I put her in front of the TV, she actually cocks her right eyebrow up and rolls her eyes at me, like, oh, mommy, that passive-yet-flashy form of entertainment will simply not do for someone with my sophisticated tastes.

The sound of her daddy’s voice stops almost any cry. Seeing her sister always brings a smile.

Mira can hold her head up well, even sitting for brief periods on her own before toppling over. She moves across the floor by rolling, but only to the right, requiring me to turn her around when she hits a roadblock. Or a cat. Rolling to the left is never an option – apparently turning left is offensive. Let’s hope she gets over that by the time she starts driving. She occasionally will stand up while held, but generally prefers her feet as chew toys.

But her real magic lies in those moments when we lock eyes, and she gives me this goofy grin as if we’re sharing some big secret. I grin back at her, knowing that the next six months are going to be so much fun as she continues to explore her world and share more of her secrets with us.

And hopefully sleep more.

Party at my crib, 2am