Category: 07 Months Old

Is Your Feet Salty Too?

On October 2, 2021

In 07 Months Old, Dora's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

Mommy is lying on her back in a sea of toys on the floor. Her arms and legs extended like a starfish. This is my opportunity. As a 7-month-old, I can’t waste any more time.
I quickly crawl towards her, so fast that my hands slapping the wooden floor make putter-platter sounds like a fish swimming on land.

I sat down next to the bottom of her feet, her toes pointing upwards.

With a big inhale, I lean over and take a bite of her biggest toe.

Success! The distressed, red toenails had been intriguing me since I’ve been able to see color. I finally got a taste of it. Her toe fit snuggly in my tiny mouth. Quite salty, actually, but tastes better than Izzy’s shoes. I lean forward for another sample of the other toes, but Mommy flings her legs out of reach and shouts, “No biting toes, Dora!”

A big, sheepish smile runs across my face, showcasing my two front teeth.

Mommy scowls as she picks me up and squeezes me lovingly against her chest. Maybe she secretly likes her toes bitten…

The Ride of My Life on a Spaceship

By Hurricane Dora

On October 2, 2021

In 07 Months Old, Dora's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

While my sister traveled on airplanes most of her life, I got to travel in a private spaceship at 7-months-old to see my grandparents, big thanks to the Pandemic kid.

Daddy cheerfully said, “Welcome abroad to the spaceship. This is Captain Daddy. It is 4:33AM, the current temperature is 89F with 100 humidity. Please expect a delay as the flight attendant makes her final rounds.”

The dim lights overhead allow me to see everyone’s seating arrangements, Mommy to the right, Daddy in front, and Izzy behind me.

The luggage compartment of the spaceship is so full that the three remaining seats around me are pack to the rim.

I watch Mommy intently as she starts rummaging the six small totes nested on the floor filled with baby bottles, snacks, and toys. After a few minutes, she finally zips everything up.

Daddy’s voice echoes from the front of the car, “The captain has turned on the seatbelt light. Please remain in your seat and keep your seatbelt fastened”. Mommy checks my car seat straps and tightens them some more.

As Mommy checks Izzy’s seat belts in the back, Izzy whispers, “Where are we going?”

Mommy reply, “We are going on a road trip to see grandma and grandpa.”

Daddy made his last announcement, “we are ready for takeoff. Please sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. The lights will dimly shortly.” A few moments later, it got dark with only the street lights peeking through the windows.

The spaceship starts vibrating, moving backward slowly.

It stops and then quickly zooms forward. Mommy places something soft in my hands. I recognize the texture; it is Mrs. Elephant, my sleeping buddy. She then sets a bottle in my hands which floods my mouth with sweet, warm milk. Ahh. Now, that’s the stuff. I am not usually hungry at this hour, but I will welcome free food any day. I cling onto the bottle, chugging until I can’t drink another drop, and drifts off into a deep sleep, dreaming of hyperspace.

Warning - do not buy pullover onesies for kids under 1-year-old unless you are 110% sure you have successfully put on a diaper correctly.

Poopie Series: The Cursed Red Pullover Onesie

By Mommy Tornado

On August 2, 2021

In 07 Months Old, Mommy's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

Warning – do not buy pullover onesies for kids under 1-year-old unless you are 110% sure you have successfully put on a diaper correctly. (A pullover onesie is a shirt that goes through the head with buttons to close on the bottom.) 7-month-old Izzy managed to scar me for life with the below incident.

You have been warned.

While playing with Izzy on the mat, a strong scent penetrated my nose. I sniffed her butt. It was stinky. Yay! This is a good sign; paranoid moms like myself made sure their children have bowel movements regularly.

BUT what I didn’t realize was that the liquidy sludge had escaped the diaper and hiked up her back.

Frantically, I picked her up and ran to the changing table. What should I do first? Take off her clothes? Cut the shirt up? Izzy smiled at me. She seemed pretty content – leave her be?

My plan of attack was to take off her shirt, wipe her back, then change her diaper. I sprang into action.

First, I dug in between the feces-covered thighs to unbutton the shirt and then rolled the shirt inwards.

Then, the scariest step – I tried to pull the shirt over her head (drum roll, please!). If this were a sleeping baby, it would’ve been easy to carefully pull each hand out and then widen the collar before pulling the shirt over the head. But this was a squirming baby that just learned to roll over but still couldn’t stand yet. By the time I got her shirt off, pieces of feces scattered the changing table and hung onto her thin hair.

She also decided this was the best time to move her head from side to side.

I declared, “It is bathtime again.” After taking off her diaper and wiping the remaining excretions off her body, I ran to the bathroom with my palms cupping her bottom and plopped her into the bathtub. Daddy always seems to plan the grocery trips at the right moment; he won’t get away easily this time. We hummed and enjoyed bathtime as we waited for Daddy to come home and clean up the dirty shirt and piles of wipes still having a dance party on the changing table.