My own little girl just turned 9 moths old. It makes me a little sad that she is not really a baby anymore. I still get glimpses of her little-ness from time to time. Like when I rock her to sleep and she is going to town on her pacifier or when she passes out after 2 seconds in her car seat. Dressing or changing her is like wrestling a tiger. I don't know what that's like per say, but I imagine it's like Miss E's thrashing and rolling almost to the point of falling off the changing table. I don't know why we even bother with that darn thing anymore. She is my sweet little lady and I love her chubby cheeks for days.
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