Five months! That’s roughly 150 nights of marveling at her ability to sleep like a starfish, arms flung overhead, legs spread, snoring like a tiny version of her mother. She clocks a ridiculous 12 to 14 hours a night. I don’t want to jinx it, but we may have birthed the chosen one.
She greets the world with the wide-eyed awe of a tiny philosopher. You can see the deep questions in her eyes: Why does that large hairy man keep waving at me? She beams whenever she sees us. And after each meal, she smacks her lips like a baby sommelier: “Ah yes, this vintage formula… buttery, with notes of not-going-to-nap-on-purpose”
Big news on the movement front, she’s rolling over! We’re also eagerly awaiting her MMR vaccine and the culinary chaos of introducing solids. Will she love avocado? Banana? Sardines in mustard sauce? We’ll find out and the dogs are ready and rearing to help with cleanup. 
Vidah, our au pair, is basically a miracle. She and Joni spend their days babbling, bouncing, and working on advanced baby hand control (goal: fewer accidental face scratches). I can still get her to laugh with a well-placed raspberry, but when she’s inconsolable, Emily is the baby whisperer. I just stand there holding a burp cloth and hoping for the best.
As for the dogs; Bear is obsessed, he’s in full cuddle-and-protect mode. Ajax remains unimpressed, clearly holding out for snack-based negotiations.
Watching Joni grow is like living inside a slow-motion fireworks show: surprising, delightful, a little loud, and utterly magical. I love being her dad.
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