Eight Months

Dear Nate,

Today you are eight months old.  This is incredible to me, because I don't think of eight month olds as babies.  They are, clearly, because you're not yet a toddler but there should be some word to describe this later baby stage when you're up and around and active and into everything, but not technically toddling around yet.

When you turned seven months old, you had three teeth, all on the bottom.  You now have two teeth on top for a total of FIVE teeth overall.  Gone is your little gummy baby smile and I find it hard to believe that we won't ever see it again.

And, yes, those are puffs in your mouth.  You are a complete puff addict right now, our little puffaholic puffhead.  It's so cute how you pick them up and shove them in your mouth, though; I could watch you eat puffs all day long.  Yesterday you had toast for the first time and also some roasted potatoes.  Now that you mash food with your teeth and gums, we let you try more things and so far there isn't anything you don't like.

There also isn't a corner of the house you don't like.  You are all over the place and into - and onto! - everything.

Yes, that's you, on top of Silly Town.  See, I thought I was being clever, putting your puzzles on top of the bench so they were out of the way for a little while.  Little did I know they would simply entice you to climb up Silly Town to get them, knock them over, and then nearly launch yourself into the fireplace screen.  Do not be surprised if we wrap you in bubble-wrap soon.

You have gotten much more nimble at getting up and down, though.  For the first week or so, the only way you could get down from standing was to crash and, usually, cry.  But soon you learned how to lower yourself slowly, letting your arms extend to their fullest until you finally let go and, plop!, land on your butt.  In the past week or so, you've also learned how to lower yourself back down onto your knees and I've caught you crouching and kneeling while playing a few times.  You're getting quite a bit more at ease with your movement capabilities and I find myself wondering daily when you're going to start standing without support and, gasp, walking.

But, like every other month, I just love you how you are now.  You and I went to brunch with Grammy and Pop-Pop yesterday at the restaurant where Aunt Stef works on Sundays and customers were stopping her to say, "Did you see that baby over there?  He's SO cute and SO happy!  Look at him!  He just smiles and smiles!" And she would proudly tell them you're her nephew.  Everywhere you go, people just adore you and you're so good.  The best word I can describe you with is delightful.  You are simply a delight to be around.

Except at 6am.  It has to be mentioned; I'm sorry, Peanut.  But in the past month you have started to get up a wee bit early for Mommy and Daddy.  We don't know what to do about it.  We don't want you to cry, so we go get you, but then you want to play and, well, we just want to sleep.  We're going to have to figure something out here, kiddo.  I don't mean to say you aren't delightful at 6am.  Technically, you are; I guess it's more that 6am isn't a delightful hour.

Oh, and there is that little matter of the stomach virus you passed on to over a dozen family members over Christmas.  Your poor daddy threw up for the first time in over 20 years.  (I'm telling you this now because, undoubtedly, he will tell you this repeatedly when you grow up, so be ready.)  The funny part was that you handled it the best.  Even sick, you were cheery and sweet.  While the rest of your family moaned and groaned and complained, you were still raring to go.  You are a mix of Superman and the Hulk sometimes, for sure.

I don't even know how to imagine what new things this month will bring, so I just simply enjoy every day, every minute I have with you, my delightful, handsome little man.  I love you.

Love,

Mommy