Eight months old. EIGHT. Somehow, in the last eight months, you’ve gone from a tiny glow worm who I was afraid to unswaddle (because I knew I’d never get you swaddled back as well as the hospital nurses) to a barreling ball of kinetic energy. You race through the days with a grin and a giggle and greet every moment with joy. Sometimes I wonder if you’re not teaching me more about how to live life than I’m teaching you!
It’s been a crazy month (which might explain why this letter is 3 days late!). For the first time, I will not be saying that this month flew by. It’s been a hectic and tough month, and it feels like it’s been a year since Easter! It’s been a month full of a few bouts with illness (for both of us!), a lot of teething, and not a lot of sleep. But it’s also been full of crazy developmental leaps and a LOT of fun.
I don’t even know where to start! First of all, you are cutting FIVE teeth right now. All at once! This brings you to a total of six teeth overall, and all cut in a month. You are mommy’s little trooper! You have two on the bottom, and four on the top. When you cut that first one, you spent two days doing nothing buy tonguing that tooth. Now, you sit around and grind your top teeth against the bottom, trying to figure out what all that is going on in your mouth. Daddy thinks it’s funny, but the noise puts a chill up my spine.
You are also now mobile. You’re finally conquering your hatred of being on your belly, and have worked out the cutest little scoot. You put your forehead to the floor, stick your butt up in the air, and push your face across the floor. You have permanent carpet burns on your forehead! You’re getting pretty fast, too. You can really hustle if you see Mommy or one of the kitties across the room! You’re working on a regular crawl, but just haven’t quite got the knees/hands movement down yet. I don’t have many pictures in this update, because you don’t like sitting still and posing much anymore.
You have developed such sensitive spirit. You definitely have your Mommy’s empathetic soul. You get sad when I’m sad and tense when you hear arguing (even if it’s just on TV). Strangers have started to make you nervous and loud noises upset you sometimes. But even with all that, you are still super social. You love to greet the world with a big smile – as long as you can see them all from the safety and comfort of your mama’s arms.
You are also getting a very independent spirit. You are 19 pounds of pure firecracker. When I’m holding your hands to help you stand, you tried to shove me away, the look on your face saying “MOM, I’VE GOT THIS”. Diaper changes have become quite a production. I have started changing you on our bed most of the time since you’re so wiggly. The second the old diaper is off, you flip over and start to crawl away as fast as you can, a maniacal grin from ear to ear. When I catch you and flip you over to put the new diaper on, you go bonkers and throw a fit. When I’m done, I feel like standing back and throwing my hands in the air, à la a rodeo cowboy.
For someone who can’t talk yet, you’re pretty good at letting everyone know what’s on your mind. You have this loud goose honk that you make when you notice I’m not around, a shrill and ear piercing shriek that you get when you’re tired, a grunt when you’re hungry, and a million other vocalizations that make perfect sense to my mom’s ear.
I am SO glad that I’ve been able to stay home with you. I love getting to spend every day playing with you, and never having to miss a minute of your energy. It makes it so easy to make financial sacrifice to know that the effort is going towards keeping us side by side all day. I feel so blessed that I’ve gotten to witness nearly every single smile.
I wish I could give you words that would tell you how thoroughly I love you. I wish I could say something, write something, compose something that would whisper to you always the depth of my love. All I have are the simple words the God has given me, and I hope they serve their intention. You are my heart, little one. I revel in every second we share.
You are the brightest joy in an often dim world. If I could, I would make the world a better place – cleaner and safer and softer. I would protect you from every hurtful thing that lurks. But as you grow, I know I’ll be able to protect you less and less. Just as your sweet head has lost the powdery newborn scent, I will lose my ability to keep you safe and sound in my arms. But I promise you to always keep our home a haven, and to always provide a safe place when you need somewhere to rest.
My emotions are too great, and my words too jumbled. So I will just tell you this, little boy: your mommy loves you. She loves you as wide and as deep and as far as the imagination can stretch. And she loves seeing your personality emerge as you shed off the “vanilla-ness” of babyhood and develop a presence all your own. I can’t wait to see who you’re going to be.
To the moon… and back,