Monday, January 31, 2011
Things I want to remember:
I haven't done one of these posts in awhile, and there is so much to remember:
- You sometimes play peek-a-boo by yourself in the middle of the night.
- After your bath, when you are waiting for your infant massage and diaper, you laugh and - in all your naked baby glory - do what I call "insane kicking explosion!" - and if I ask you when you're lying on your back to do the insane kicking explosion, you totally do.
- You lie in bed and look at all your friends - Uncle Bob - a sticker of Bob Marley on the closet door that was left by some previous inhabitant and your girlfriends - oh how you love them. You laugh at them, you smile at them - your little animated girlfriends on the package of Spanx I keep on my dresser.
- Sometimes you can say words, but then you lose them immediately. After that, they are distilled down to sounds you recognize. Book becomes a hard "K" sound, Truck becomes a hard "K" sound, Chupa (swahili word for bottle) becomes "Pa" - I now see why families sometimes hold onto these mispronunciations, they are very cute.
- We read SO many books. This week we've been to the library 3 times, and have read each of the 45 library books that we checked out at least twice. Fine, some of them are very simple, but by the way, you are only 9 and a half months old. That's alot of books for one week - especially since it doesn't count our normal books and bedtime routine books!
- You love cats. It started at Auntie Em's house, with your love affair with her cat Deuce. Moved onto Auntie Nicole's house and her adorable cat Garlic, and now you make this loud "boop, boop" sound everytime you see one. In books, in stores, anywhere. We went into a pet store today to see if I could find you one. Eeesh, that place is like an awful pet orphanage - you were enthralled, but I was about to cry or buy out the whole place, so we retreated and will NOT be returning.
- You LOVE older children. You like other babies, but you really love looking at older children. You were mesmerized by our 13 year old nephew Donte.
- You can now walk holding onto things. You can make it from the sofa to the coffee table, from the coffee table to the entertainment center and from the entertainment center to the side table. You can also make it from the other chair, along the wall, into the kitchen, past the refrigerator, past me doing dishes, and all the way to the stove. Real walking cannot be far off.
- You are in this strange place between baby and person. Sometimes, I cuddle you under my chin like I always have, and I can forget in that quiet and comfort that you spill over my elbow and lap and around the corner of the rocker. And that 20 minutes earlier, I probably told you to do something and you actually did it.
- Because you understand so much more than we realize. You get very animated at some stories now. We read "We're going on a Bear Hunt" and you bounce and move as if you are on a bear hunt. When the little family gets to the cave where the bear lives, you freak out and are yelling in your little baby language "Don't go in there, dumb-asses, there's a bear in there!"
- You are very attached to me. We are in the throws of separation anxiety. No one else holds a candle to me. I am ashamed to say that I am cherishing that closeness, knowing it will be over soon enough. My sweet, squishy little baby loves me and wants to be near me all the time. What a gift for me.
- But I know that Daddy cannot wait until you realize that I'm just kind of "blah" compared to him - and that you shadow him around, like we know you will. You already go running towards the door when I tell you he's about to walk in. And sometimes you grab my fingers and go running down the hallway to find him. If he is waiting at the end to swoop you up, then you chortle and sometimes squeal. And I melt inside.
- It's almost time for us to transition to a different kind of life. A few more months. While it's so tough to be alone with you so often, I am trying hard to enjoy this time, knowing I will miss it with every fiber of my being when it is over.