Posted by: emjb | July 19, 2006

Eight months

There’s really only one thing I need to post this month.


I’ve never seen anyone work as hard at anything as you did at crawling; weeks and weeks of rocking back and forth, pitching over onto your face, going up and down on your tiptoes and around in circles, everything BUT crawling. And finally, on the 8th of July, on the bed with your daddy and me, you put out one wildly swinging arm..and went forward a tiny ways. Then you did it again. And we put you down on the carpet and you did it AGAIN, although it was the tiniest, most tentative crawl imaginable, and you were making worried noises and looking at us in a very concerned way. Asking us, is this ok? This moving on my own business? And we kissed you to let you know that yes, it was.

And then we went and bought some outlet covers and cabinet door dohickeys. But so far you haven’t gotten to that level; you’re still just crawling slowly, and a little doubtfully. You will come looking for us when we’re out of sight, craning around corners to make sure we haven’t run off and left you. You need a lot of reassurance, because this growing up business is scary.

When we were still in Brooklyn, I remember the first time I put you on the floor, on the play mat underneath your little floor-mobile thingy. You couldn’t do anything but smack yourself in the face and cry at that point, but all the same, you seemed to like the new perspective. Such a calm baby, accepting airplane rides and airports and strange people without complaining at just a month old, though you didn’t smile and seemed to live in a little dreamworld of your own.

And now, you are a shameless flirt. You squeal and slap your hands on the floor when you see one of us walk into the room. You come up to us while we watch tv and demand eye contact, and give us drooly grins so we’ll pick you up. You’ve kept your full head of hair and a little patch of the hairy back that you were born with. You love to go to the pool and float in your little baby-ring with Daddy pulling you around while you splash and try to put your face in the poolwater. You love squash and sweet potatoes and apples and peas and green beans. But not peaches or bananas. You eat better than we do, actually, which is something I hope will continue. For you, I’d learn to cook squash, though I’ll never learn to eat it. You can almost hold your bottle yourself, though you’re a little bit interested in the sippy cup. You watch us eat intently, sure that you’re missing out, but when we try to give you a bit of rice or meat, you decide never mind. Not your thing yet.

You like books, even if you still eat them more than you read them. And Muppets. And going to the mall to look at people when your parents get a little stir crazy. We gripe about the early mornings and the lack of free time, but when we’re away from you, we miss you and can’t wait to smell your little baby head and squeeze you and make you laugh. You have a chuckly, giggly sort of laugh; sometimes it’s a mild “heh-heh”, other times it’s an ear-piercing squeal. And every now and then, a real belly-laugh.

Your eyes are changing color; a little hazel or brown or green is creeping into the blue. Right now, your eyes are inbetween, not one thing or another. Just wide open, and seeing everything, and happy to see it.

It is good to have you, and good to be alive, period, and good to be in our own place, with you, making us more of a family. Eight months seems like no time at all.



  1. sniff, sniff…what a beautiful entry. isn’t family beautiful? sniff,sniff

  2. awwwww …

    Now where’s dem pitchers?!?! I haven’t seen the little guy in like two months now!

  3. Very, very nice. Loved it. Bring him over so we can get him on photographed on all 4’s.

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