It took my body 9 months to form you. Well, a little longer really — that whole “9 months” bit is a tad skewed. But anyway, let’s go with this: it took me 38 weeks. And now I’ve had you in my arms every day for that long.
But this month! This month was one, if not THE, most exciting. This month you started crawling. Then pushing yourself to a sitting position. Then pulling to a standing position. And now cruising. All in just a few short weeks. I’m not going to pretend — I’m a little disappointed in you, growing so quickly. I thought I ‘got’ the whole “don’t grow up so fast” plea when people said it before — but now I realize how that was just a superficial interpretation. It is not “I like you small and cute and pliable — stay young!” No, no no. It is you are my only one. I have waited my whole existence to experience this. It is the best feeling I didn’t even know was possible. Please slow down and make it last.
Though exciting, this month hasn’t been easy. You’ve always been laid back (it’s the Jordan Paul in you), but the onslaught of teeth was too much to bear. Six. You have six teeth — and more coming in. You went from one to six since last month. You’ve got your two front top, two front bottom, and two…whatdya call ’em? Vampire teeth? Canines? You have those, too. Your poor little gums have ached and bled and puffed until I cried for you (and me — there hasn’t been a lot of sleeping going down this month). You are a teething warrior, my small friend. But again, I’m a little sad. I knew I’d miss your gummy smile.
You are still on the small side, and I don’t understand it. You eat more than any other baby I’ve met. The only food you tried and didn’t like was… nope, you’ve liked them all. A meal is anything I can spoon or cut up for you fast enough. Tonight’s dinner: green beans, Annie’s crackers, water in a sippy, half a fresh-baked cupcake, pureed chicken and noodles, a bottle, and diced up pears for dessert.
You started saying it. My name. It’s not at all how I expected it to sound; it’s so much better. “Mawwm.” Soft and sweet and deep. And you say it when you are happy and want to show me, and when you are done eating (a rare occasion) and want to get down, and when you are tired of crawling or playing and you’ve scooted into my lap with your arms up for me to hold you.
You love swinging and taking walks outside. You love playing on the ground with your dad. You love pulling Champ’s tail (and he lets you, but mostly because you pay him well when he hides beneath your highchair). You love splashing water everywhere during bath time — and trying to drink the tub water like a cat. You love playing hide and seek and crawling around corners and peeking through bed slats to find me.
You go to the doctor’s for your check up next week. I’m always nervous about your shots, but I’m excited to put the measurements from the doc’s in your baby book.
I love you, Hoot Owl.