8 Months? Feels like 8 Minutes...

... underwater...

Dear Ryan:
Today you are 8 months old - you've been out in the world for the same amount of time that we knew you were in my tummy (yeah, I was a little slow to recognize the signs). My, how times have changed! You are a delight, a joy, a blessing. It has been absolutely amazing to watch you progress through the milestones, right on schedule, and to see the world through your eyes.



You are a happy child - almost deliriously happy, in fact. Sometimes you grin so wide and flap your arms so hard you fall over. Even then you still beam from ear to ear. You are vivacious and gregarious - just yesterday I handed you over to a perfect stranger (well, a stranger to you - I knew her), and you just flirted and charmed. You giggle hysterically when you recognize someone you know well - me and Daddy, your aunt Sarah and Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Bill, and your nanny Amanda.

You love to eat, and I love to "cook" for you. I can only hope that you'll be as open to new foods when you're a toddler as you are now, because it's exciting to share my love of good food with you. Okay, so I am glad Daddy got to clean up the cherry-induced pooptacular and not me...

You're very good at entertaining yourself, whether it's with one of your many age appropriate toys or the plastic pasta spoon, the safely rounded edge plastic keys or the long sharp Honda key on my keychain. One day the car remote will stop working, and I will know to blame the drool.

Speaking of drool, I can't believe how adorable those two lower teeth look in your big smile! They were pretty painful coming in, I know, but you were a trooper and now you use them to gnaw on rice rusks and watermelon rind. Mercifully, you have not bitten me while nursing [yet?!].

You inherited your father's inability to fall and/or stay asleep very well, much to my chagrin (just last week I slept like the dead through the worst hailstorm in recent memory). It seems like just when one of you finally settles down, then the other one is up half the night! I have adapted to the sleep deprivation, though, and I cherish those middle-of-the-night moments when we snuggle up together and I listen to you fall deeply asleep, peaceful at last. Peter the cat likes to cuddle up on my lap, too, and you relax the minute you hear him purring against you.

You say "da" and "ma", not as names for us but as exclamation and supplication, respectively. "Da! Da!" means you want that food, that toy, that person's attention. "Ma... ma... ma..." is the plaintive cry I hear as you wake up, disoriented, which turns into "Ma?" when I go in and pick you up. You blow raspberries, you growl in the back of your throat, and you recently started making funny snorting noises when you are frustrated.

You put everything and anything in your mouth, including (but not limited to) shoes, dirt and grass, Daddy's glasses, Mama's pant legs (you truly are an ankle-biter), various parts of the cat, cell phones, remote controls and magazines. You're a crawling pro now, and have begun the process of pulling yourself up on things. We've already lowered your crib two levels.

I could go on and on detailing your every sigh, laugh, and coo. I haven't even mentioned the scooting - oh, the scooting! Instead, I'll close with a big slobbery kiss and all the love a person can possibly give.

Love,

Mama