How did we get here already? Seriously: HOW?
I know the day will come (when you turn 1, and then when you start Little League, and then when you get your doctorate) when I’ll look at these pictures and think “what a tiny baby he was!” Actually, I probably won’t ever stop thinking that.
Last month I said that you suddenly turned from a snuggle love lump squish tiny thing, into a big proper baby. This past month you’ve perfected the art of being a Big Boy.
As these pictures show, you have a new friend: Sophie (she was a gift from one of my work friends, just before you were born). Coincidentally, you also have a new skill: grabbing and reaching for things, and bringing them up to your little mouth and chewing on them like your life depends on it. It’s cute as hell, I’m not gonna lie.
You’re great at finding your feet, and Daddy’s hoodie strings or my bra straps (fun to snap while we nurse!), and your feet and hands, or teething toys.
Yeah, I said teething toys. Because *that* has started. You’re drooling up a storm (Daddy’s shoulder is perpetually soaked) and gnawing on your hands (I have a great picture that I’m saving for your wedding slideshow. Don’t let me forget.). I think the first tooth’s still a few weeks away, but darnit if we’re not getting ready in spectacular fashion.
(the innocent belies your true activity level and noisiness)
You’ve also had another growth spurt. Seems like every time you build up a little bit of baby fat, then you have to go and get taller and lose it all. At this rate you’ll be a six foot tall 3-year-old with the head circumference of a grown man. I’m sure I’ll still think you’re adorable. (That’s kind of my job.)
Along with all that growing comes plenty of eating. Congratulations, Little Dude. You’re now in the 1%. 1% of babies still exclusively breastfed at your age, that is. I’m so proud of all your hard work, and can’t wait to keep it up for many months (years?) to come! I love our time snuggling and nursing. Although – ouch! – you really don’t have to un-latch every 30 seconds just to see what the dog’s doing, eh?
(why do you hate tummy time so much?)
In just a couple days we’re going to be hopping on a red-eye flight to Kansas City to see Grammy and Granddad and Great-Grandma and Grandmother and Granddad and Aunt Judy and *everybody* for the holidays. I can’t wait. I wonder if they’ll recognize you as the tiny guy they all saw back in August?
You’re my favorite baby ever. But I think you knew that.
Growling and eating your neck sugar just to make you giggle,
PS>We’ve gotta get serious about tummy time. I know you hate it, but I refuse to wear you in a wrap as you cross the stage to receive your sheepskin.