You’re eight months old. I can keep saying “I can’t believe it” but I can- every day you show more of your personality. Right now this means you’re testing me constantly- and it makes me smile. Everything you do makes me smile. Even when you poop your pants at 8:00am as I’m trying to get us out the door, then you somehow end up with it in your hair and all over my bathrobe. I still smile. You make me happy even when you’re covered in poop head to toe. I think that’s saying a lot.
You have no teeth and still haven’t said any words. You try though, oh you try. You make a wuh wuh wuh sound like you’re about to say, “What you talkin’ about mommy?” and you also laugh at us as we (your dad and I) furiously compete to get you to say Ma ma ma or Da da da. So far your favorite thing to HEAR is still Bah Bah Bah- followed by book, baby, or your personal favorite: BOO!
I can sit you in the living room surrounded by books and you will be content. You like to try and turn the pages. You also like to try and eat the books. That’s okay. Right now, anything near you is fair game to go into your mouth. This includes (and you prefer) things you shouldn’t have at all. Mostly you love my phone, my laptop, bottles of lotion, and socks. It’s not unlike having a puppy.You’ve also found the following very entertaining (for 20 minutes or more at a time): an unopened package of paper towels, my bank statement, and Kleenex. You love love LOVE ripping up paper or Kleenex. Whatever floats your boat, son.
I’ve taken you on several walks now in the Babyhawk, which I view as my only source of real “exercise” since I am hauling around a 23 pound baby in a sack. I think that’s exercise, don’t you? You squint and appear to dislike the sun in your eyes (who doesn’t) so we’re trying to keep hats on you. You don’t seem to mind so far.
We’ve taken a couple of short trips to the park, and I’ll swing with you on me in the Babyhawk and you giggle and smile and lay your head back to feel the air swish by.
You are now semi-mobile, which means you roll and roll and scoot and scoot all around. You’re sitting up on your own and only tip over when you put your head in the direction of whatever you’re wanting in the moment.
Soon we’ll have to move the swing downstairs- as you no longer fit in it and it basically slows to a stop once you’re in there for a bit.
Today is Easter Sunday, and we don’t have big plans which is nice. I had to work this Saturday so it really limited time over the weekend to visit with family. Basically, we didn’t see much family. Uncle Brett and Aunt Kristen stopped by though- to drop off Gunner for us to watch him while they went to the Final Four basketball tournaments. You really like the dog, but not tremendously so. You are mildly amused by his presence, and most enamored with his feet and tail, which you’re trying to reach and pull. Gunner licks your face (because it usually has food or spit up or drool on it) and you smile.
You spend a lot of your time yelling at us, and your Dad says that you’re just “practicing your voice” but at times I do feel slightly nervous you have something very important to say and just can’t get it out. You yell with purpose most of the time, and look at us like we’re nuts for not knowing what you’re trying to say.
You give me kisses now, and you make a sound while doing so because that’s what I do to you when I kiss your chubby cheeks, neck and chin. You come at me with that slobbery mouth and lick at my face like a golden retriever and it just melts me.
You’re starting to sign “milk” to us more- which is great because it tells me some of the signs we do make sense to you. It is also sweet because when you do it at night it means you’re ready for bed. I still rock you with a bottle before you go to sleep and you still gently play with my hair while you eat. You also found our left foot, which you like to play with and hold onto when you drink your bottle.
Your hair is growing! And it is definitely blond. It may have a reddish tint to it, but I don’t think it’s anything that will stick. Your dad calls you the Ginger baby though- and makes comments about your lily white skin. I just bought a gigantic thing of sunblock for the both of us.
I can sometimes see what you’re going to look like as a little boy- when you grin at me because you know you’re doing something you’re not supposed to- or when you just look around inquisitively at your surroundings.
I know it seems impossible but I love you more with each passing second. The time flies by when I’m just around you- in the same house, which means that we’re having fun. This life of ours’ is so awesome I often wonder if we’re going to get struck by lightning or something. I told your Dad the other night, that this is the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life. You make each day better and more fun, just by being you. How does that feel Simon? To know that you – no matter what you do- poop and all…you make me glow with pure happiness? You’ll never know. I just burst with pride for you. You are so perfect in my eyes- and no matter what you do or what you become, you are my perfect baby boy. Thank you for coming to us. You’ve wriggled your way into the deepest parts of my heart that I didn’t know existed before.
All my love,