There’s something kind of bittersweet about you turning 9 months. You’re on the cusp of crawling and “talking” with your da-da-da sounds all the time. There are so many new things you can do that I’m not sure where to begin.
You get so incredibly excited when you see people you love. Daddy gets home from work and you practically throw yourself out of my arms as you try to “swim” through the air towards him. You smile so big that the dimple in your Sproulie chin appears and your right eye closes more than the right. (Kind of like in this photo.) It’s the same when L comes over to babysit. By now she knows to reach out and catch you when I open the door. You love Patchy, too. He is your most frequented target when army crawling and is slowly warming up to you. This morning I watched as you crawled over to Patch and then reached up to pet his leg. I think you basically cornered him, because he was sitting on his hind quarters with a look that said, “Fine, I guess you are a teeny bit cute. But, don’t get used to this.”
I promise to not be one of those moms who makes you have a play-date with a super bratty kid just so I can hang out with her mom. However, I have to say that I think I have pretty impeccable taste picking out mother-kid pairs to go with on adventures. This past Saturday, we drove all the way out to Bates Nut Farm with Allie and Maya the Bee. You fussed most of the way there. Maya Slept. Luckily, she woke up long enough for a shameless photo op. Allie turned her into a tutu-pumpkin princess and I put you in your stripped leggings. Uhm, total cuteness:
Then you fussed and cried almost the whole way home. Maya slept.
So, what’s with this bad attitude? I have one word you. Actually, it’s a verb: TEETHING. The lack of sleep I got last night was such that it took a while for it to feel like it was a different day when I finally gave up and took you upstairs to play. I was planning to recover while you took your morning nap, which didn’t happen. Then your afternoon nap, which also didn’t happen. So, this is what I want to know: Where is the effing Tooth Fairy when you need her? Sure, she’s MIA when all this painful teething is happening and will surely be nowhere to be found when daddy and I try to convince you that we should go ahead and yank out that tooth hanging by a sinewy, gummy string. Oh, OH, and then she will flutter on in, sprinkle her fairy dust and take your tooth for whatever monetary exchange she sees fit. You know what I could use below my pillow tonight? A gift card to the local coffee shop so that I can recover my sanity when this is happening:
Still, there’s a sad irony in all this teething drama. I was dreading breast feeding you after you cut your first tooth. I had some pretty great boobs before you came along and I’m kind of worried you are going to ruin them. Despite all the pain in the beginning, I grew to enjoy breast feeding. Your little buds of fists would unfurl as you drifted off into a milk coma and I’d feel such a special bond with my new little sweetheart of a baby. Even with all the new obstacles as you become more aware of your surrounding and less focused on getting a full tummy, I have a renewed sense of being emotionally connected when you are nursing. Now you’re getting to be such a big girl. You’re army crawling is going to quickly develop into walking, your da-da-da’s will evolve into full sentences, and you won’t need me anymore like you do now when you have your little-big-girl teeth.
At least, you’ll believe in the Tooth Fairy. I guess she will earn each tooth after all.
I love you little (getting bigger and bigger) Button.