This past weekend you turned eight months old. Shortly after you were born I remember looking at your Daddy and telling him that I never wanted to not have a baby. Looking at your perfect little fingers and toes, your round little face and skinny body, I couldn’t imagine not always having someone so small and so perfect to hold. This past week I thought to myself I never want to not have an 8 month old. Your toes are still pretty darn cute, but now you also have a smile that lights up the room, a giggle that melts my heart, and a determination like nothing I’ve ever seen. You are so curious, so active, and so snug-able. You also totally, completely, love me; and I am soaking up every second of it.
Back in February, when you were just two months old, you went through a phase were you would cry when I picked you up. I didn’t talk about it much because, well, it broke my heart. More than once I found myself in the bathroom, crying, because I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t able to comfort you. I wish I would have known in February what August would bring. These days as soon as you hear my voice you start fussing, wanting your Daddy to bring you in to see me. You cry when I leave the room and when you are tired and want to cuddle, only Mama will do. Yes, you’re a Mama’s Boy, and I absolutely love it.
You’ve always been a snuggler but this month we have spent extra time cuddling. You are now moving all over the place and when we play on the floor in your nursery you repeatedly scrawl (what I call your current movement; more than a scoot but not quite a crawl) over to me, climb up my legs and bury your head in my neck. I hold you there as long as you’ll let me before you’re off to your next adventure. When it is time for you to go drzemka, which we call “ju ju” (Mommy doesn’t know how to really spell this because I only pretend to be Polish), we have a set routine that starts with reading a book or two and ends with you curled up on my chest as I rock you to sleep and sing you the Dreamin’ Song. Most nights I have to force myself to put you in your crib because there is nothing more relaxing then feeling the rhythmic pace of the glider as I hold you close.
When you are awake you are as active and curious as can be. The other day you had just woken up and I was carrying you perched on my hip, your head laying on my shoulder and your thumb in your mouth. I stopped by my dresser to grab a couple of things and even though you were half asleep you couldn’t resist the urge to throw your hand up on top and feel around, looking for something, anything, to grab. This is so you. Always trying to see, feel, taste, and experience the world.
You love being tickled, but hate having your face cleaned. You say Ma Ma repeatedly and Da Da occasionally. You love meal time and tired yams, squash, apples, bananas, avocado and oatmeal cereal – rejecting only the avocado. You love bath time but hate being dried off and lotioned up. You instantly flip over to your stomach when laid on your changer and reach your arms above your head to go upie. You got a second bottom tooth and gave up your Soothie in favor of a “Big Boy Nuk.” You make a kissing noise with your lips and love petting the animals. You laugh when I call you Stink-a-Link and know I mean business when I say Bruske.
You are the love of my life.
I can’t wait to see what September brings.