Half a Year

My baby is six months old,
that wiggly, giggly baby of mine–
that holdable, foldable baby
who is with me almost all the time.
That rooting, scooting baby
could soon get up and go.
Gone is the snarfing, barfing baby
that I used to know.

Half a year– where's it gone?
Or better, where has it taken us?
From Bogotá to the "big" SuFu,
by car, airplane, and public bus.

What have I done, in these six months
since the morning I gave  birth?
Each day I've had the same mother duties,
There's been no big change in my "net worth."

But a year is a circle, so half a year
must be about one hundred and eighty degrees.
And that's how much a baby can change
and how much a baby is changing me.