Saturday, September 16, 2006

8 months and counting...

I had this all ready to post yesterday on time and everything. But my internet has been down since Thursday. I know, very sad indeed. Saturday Photo Scavenger Hunt is the next post down.


Dear Boo Bear,

I think I start every one of these letters with, "I can't believe it's been ___ months." But I can't. The past 8 months can't have possibly gone so fast and yet I watch you growing every day. I can't remember when you were "little" hardly, but then you we go to get you wieghed and you haven't even doubled your birth weight yet. You eat like we will take it away from you, and don't worry I won't. You have no qualms about telling me when you don't like what you are eating, you just don't eat it. You clamp your little mouth shut and make your turtle face and I know (I think) that you don't like it. I also know that when you do like something, you will eat and eat and eat until I don't see how you could possibly put all that food in your little bitty body, yet you do.

You have finally started showing us when you are excited too. I was beginning to worry that you might be too laid back. When you get excited you flap your arms up and down and if I am holding you, my arm gets a nice little beating. But it's so darn cute, so I let you beat on me, as long as that means you are happy. You rarely get to see your father during this time of year because he has to work all the time, so when you do, you smile so big and get so excited, beat, beat, beat goes the hand. He tries to get you out of bed every morning for just a small glimpse of you. You hug his arm while he changes your diaper and play and when he brings you into our bathroom as I blearily brush my teeth, there goes that arm. When I come to get you in the morning, you cry, because, hey lady, you got the foods, forget my diaper, gimme the boobie.

You are becoming mobile and I am running around in circles chasing my tail about what to do about it. The other day I set you in the middle of our very long bathroom like I always do to take a shower. You promptly slipped onto your stomach and began scooching towards my closet. Since I couldn't recall the full state of my closet and despite the fact that my floors are filthy, I really didn't want you chomping on my shoes, I banged on the shower door to grab your attention. Grab it I did as you moseyed on over to check things out. Two minutes later I realized stupidly that with you laying right outside the shower door, I potentially could be stuck in the shower. Now there may be times, quite frequently really, that I would not mind being forced to hang out in the shower, but this was not one of them. Something about inquiring eyes and the lack of relaxation being the reason. Luckily, you laid your head down and the shower door was just high enough to skim over your helmet. I am sure this is just the beginning of how you will terrorize your Mother, dear girl.

Your smile still makes all the worlds problems go away in one fell swoop and when you laugh, I could conquer anything. You make me laugh with your giggle and your mischevious little grin. Speaking of grin, you are getting your bottom two teeth. I will not say anything about the teething experience for fear of jinxing myself and ruining the rest of my life as a mother. I plan on having other children, no need to mess of the balance of the universe with one stupid comment. Despite the doctor saying from the day you were born that you would teeth early, you waited until 7.5 months, just like all the average babies. You are far from average though baby girl.

You have started to discover that your hands belong to your body and will stop what you are doing and look at your hand while you slowly open and close it. Open. Close. Open. Close. Then you resume what you were doing. Your favorite toy is a tooth brush that has some sort of noise maker in the base of it and you fling that thing around like you are playing an instrument. Of course after slobbering, I mean, brushing your teeth, on it, you like to fling the slobber like the best of them too.

You have definitely found your outside voice and you love to screach repeatedly. This is a huge hit at playgroup because all the older children think it's fun too. Not so much. Mommy likes her head feeling like something other than the day after a college party. If I am going to have a headache, I better get the fun that came before it. You have also started blowing raspberries. Not on anything, but repeatedly pursing your lips and blowing like there is no tomorrow. Cute in general, not so cute when you have your mouth full of food.

A few days ago I sat you in your crib so that I could vacuum your room and you promptly grabbed the side rail and pulled up to standing. Holy Crap on a stick, batman, help me. You then let go and fell over and cried and cried. When I sat you back up you promptly grabbed the side once again and pulled yourself back up to standing. Three days ago, we walked in to get you in the morning and there you sat all by yourself. Gah! We have now lowered the crib and I go back and forth every day with whether or not to take out the bumper. I fear you will use it as a foot hold for climbing, but then all also fear you will get your little hands and feet stuck in between the slats and break something. Half a dozen... Today I came to check on you about 15 minutes after I had put you down for your nap. I opened the door and there you sat playing. When you saw me, you quickly flopped onto your stomach and laid your head down. I couldn't help but laugh as I walked back out of the room. You little sneaker-pot.

It is only a matter of time until you figure out that you can move faster on your knees than just pulling your body along with your hands. You move very quickly now and I can no longer work with you on the floor because you move quick as a flash under my desk, taking a beeline straight to all the cords and wheels and other fun things I can worry about you killing yourself with. I guess it's time to baby proof (is there really such a thing) this house.


You have recently started to sleep on your face. This terrifies me, but there is nothing I can do. You sleep mostly on your side or stomach now with your nose and mouth buried in the mattress. I can only hope that when we take off your helmet you will stop doing this as the helmet is at least a little bit of a buffer. My sweet girl you are too cute when you sleep though, with just the smallest little snore. I am constantly coming in and placing my hand on your back, making sure that you are still breathing. Please keep breathing.

Boo Bear, you light up my life. You bless me in ways I never dreamed of. I love you. I love you. I love you. A million kisses a day.

Love,
Mommy

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