Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Ten months.

Ten months.

Dear Stranger,

Hey you. Yeah, you. Is your name George? I think maybe I knew you way back when, during a time when you were immobile and fairly quiet and had strong opinions but only about one or two things as opposed to, oh, EVERYTHING. It's those eyes of yours, that smile, that laugh too - they remind me of that baby I used to know.

We have moved into double digits. You are now ten months old. I so badly want to be snarky about this, but I am too awed (and tired). Your energy output is amazing to witness. You just do not stop moving. The need for babies to nap makes total sense to me now, because moving around this much and this fast requires recharging the batteries frequently.

Ninja teeth continue to pop through in your mouth. One day your dad and I were going, GAH WHY SO CRANKY GEORGE so for funsies, we felt around in your mouth (parents like to blame all crankiness on teething. It makes us feel inexplicably better to be able to name a baby's unnameable suffering). We felt not just one, but two new teeth. That brings you up to a total of six, with two on the top and four on the bottom.

That mouth has purposes other than sprouting teeth, of course. We think maaaaaybe you have a first word. In your nursery, your daddy likes to walk you around, pointing to objects while telling you their names. There is a stuffed duck on the armoire, and a painting of Donald Duck on the wall. Your daddy pointed to the painting while saying, "Duck." You then pointed to the stuffed animal, and said, "Duh." Which is different than your usual, which is "Dadadadadadadada." You have done it a couple of times since then, but not consistently. So. Maybe. Verdict's out.

The movement of your body fascinates you, and for good reason. You figured out how to do so much with your body this month. You started pulling up on us, on furniture, on the side of the tub, on anything you could get your hands on. In the beginning you preferred cupping your little hands in ours, to get a good grip before trusting your legs to lift and hold you. But you quickly branched out, and now you can pull up on the slippery metal of Baby Gate Jail (as we affectionately call the gate that keeps you out of the Kitchen of Doom and in the Living Room of Toy Explosions).

You also very gradually figured out how to sit up on your own. The first time you did it, you were having post-bath nekkid time hanging out on the living room floor, and your dad and I were sitting on the couch watching you exert that last bit of energy for the day. We held our breath as we watched your hips slo-o-o-owly move to the side in just the way they needed for you to sit up. We applauded you when you succeeded. In that moment I thought, man, this is why people have kids.

We had two more first holidays this past month, and one was the biggie - Christmas. Our first Christmas at our own home, and with a baby to boot, so thank you for helping us break in the house. New Year's Eve was thankfully not too exciting for you, despite our neighbors' partying (cue crotchety new parent complaints about how DARE people party while MAH BABY! is trying to sleep). You loved every minute of the past few weeks, in part because there were so many people around to shower you with love. Your daddy had a couple weeks off of work, your cousin Michelle stayed with us for the week before Christmas, and Momma's Super Awesome Friend Kelly was here the week after. As long as you got your quiet time for bottles and naps, this was the ideal life for you. Now everyone has gone back home and back to their offices, so it's just you and me, kid. Starting out a new year.

Love you, Butternut.


2011 holiday photo.

Who's that momma in the window?

Happy Friday, folks.

Pulling up.

My boys.

This is far more interesting than mere toys.


Swing, baby, swing.

George with Christmas lights, part 2.

Dad, George, and me.

George tackling wrapping paper.

Three generations on Christmas Eve.

Family of three at Christmas.

Om nom nom tasty ornament.

Rob and George laughing at lunch.

Me and George in the adirondack.

Crawling up the adirondack.

Holding Daddy's hand.

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